We just finished a really nice vacation in London and Paris. We went to some museums, tried to find local hangouts and ate good food. I was excited to take our youngest daughter with us, since she had never traveled out of the country. I was really looking forward to her reactions when she saw the magnificent old cathedrals and buildings. My first trip to Europe was in the 1980s and the first morning in Paris is a memory that stays with me still. Back then there was no Eurostar. From London, I took a mixture of bus, train and ferry to get to Paris. It was very early in the morning as I walked towards the old Opera House. I had never seen anything more beautiful.
My daughter did love Paris, but commented as we stood in the bright sunlight under the Eiffel Tower that she felt like she had been there before. It was familiar to her because she'd seen it in movies or videos so many times. I understood her thoughts. While researching this trip, I had watched countless YouTube travel videos highlighting neighborhoods and special places in Paris. When I saw them in real life, a bit of the wonder was diminished. I tried to have her imagine what it must have been like many years ago for visitors who had never seen any videos or images until they arrived. I could see her eyes begin to glaze as she anticipated a lecture on "the way things were in my day." For her, the 1980s are in the same league as the 1880s - really, really, long ago.
On our last evening, we said good-bye to our friends who live in Paris. We were sort of tired and sad and ready to go home. We decided to just ask our hotel for a recommendation for a restaurant and to take a long walk to it. As we rounded a corner onto a side street that was very pretty, a man was running towards us with a stick or cane, being followed by two other guys. There was a lot of screaming between them as they chased and ran. Things calmed down for a while and then the man with the stick decided to turn around and go after the other two guys. People on the street were starting to get worried that they might be struck or pushed by the three men as they ran arguing through the street. We kept walking and I said I felt that I was in the middle of a movie. Possibly The French Connection. But I didn't even mention to my daughter how this moment would be changed if I'd never seen a movie before. She'd never understand if I told her that the guy carrying the stick is now looking a lot like a young Gene Hackman in my memory.
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