Paris

I remember when... You know you're getting old when you begin your stories with that phrase.  However, since I'm not a "thirty-something" and all my wild 20s are behind me (and I'm beginning to feel the little pains of age creeping up my back,) I guess I must apologize for having to begin with that tired-out old phrase.

"I remember when..."...  I travelled with my friend in Europe in my late 20s. I learned a few things:

1.  Don't drink the water (buy beer or cider instead.)

2. Sleep and travel cheap, eat and shop richly.  Credit, please!

3. Holly,  Go Lightly.   Bring only the absolutes - Absolute Vodka. (Kidding.)  Pack lightly  and plan, just a little. 

I'm dragging my mother to France. She's a willing hostage - ready to be assailed by the splendor and decadence of the culture.

I insisted that we not take a bus tour or one of these pre-paid 'packages.'  It's like a rolling jail on wheels to me. Eat here. Sleep here. See this. 

However, planning is proving a little flustering. My raggedy old copy of "Let's Go, Europe" isn't as much help as it was in my 20s in London, Brussels, and Amsterdam  my path was more Whitman-esq - "

."

However, this Yahoo trip planner thingy is making me silly happy right now and making my future adventure a little less delirious and perilous for us both.  (Not that I wouldn't mind a bit of out-of-the-box daring-do.  Anyone know any cataphiles willing to take on a neophyte for a short subterrean roust? ) 

No adventurers out there? Not that I'm looking to to crawl through holes in walls anyhow, but maybe just to see something a little less, 'touristy.'

Well then, maybe a little emprise in later years...before I myself become a relic.