Failing to Plan
I'm having a big problem with my trip to Paris.
My problem is that I want to do way too many things in way too short a time period. I had to restrain myself from getting out the ruler and measuring the distance between places on the map, and thus estimating how long it would take to walk between them, so I could figure out how much I could do in a day.
Part of the problem is that I have been to Paris before, but I not only went for 13 days instead of three, it was also entirely planned by someone else. It was a school trip I did when I was 17. I think I did two things alone: I went on one of those boat tours, and I had to make my way to the Embassy to get my temporary passport by myself. (The big thing I remember about that is that the Canadian Embassy in France was near a peep show of some sort. That's how I knew where to turn.) This time, I get to do only the things I want to do... and again the cornacopia of choices is paralyzing me.
(Did you know the number one search term to find this blog is cornacopia? I really need a new word.)
I've kinda narrowed down a few things. As much as I hate to admit it, I do intend to spend the trip being a total tourist. I'm gonna hit the big touristy sites, and do some of the big touristy shopping (ooh, stationary stores!), and stuff like that. I actually went out and bought a guidebook, and I'm marking it up all to hell in an effort to make a plan. I figure if I neither sleep nor eat, I might get in about a quarter of the stuff I want to do.
I'm reminding myself that Paris is about as close to here as Vancouver is to Edmonton, and if I want to go again, I can. I remember reading a bunch of "what I want to do this summer" writing by students in the paper the first week I was here, and the universal complaint was "I don't want my parents to make me go to Europe again." So, yeah, it's easy, and not all that expensive. I missed the big seat sale, but I'm still sneaking into France for less that 100 pounds roundtrip. I bet I can get cheaper flights in winter. Maybe missing my actual birthday in France means I can spend Christmas there.