As some of you may know, I am abroad. Out of the country, galavanting around Europe and all that.

I have just completed my first excursion outside of London: I went to Paris. Even more monumentally, I just went to Paris for the first time. And believe you me, I had a lot of feelings about it.

Paris is beautiful. Anyone one could tell you that, whether or not they have ever been there before. But nothing prepared me for exactly how beautiful it was. The symmetry of the architecture, the relaxed opulence of the Parisians meandering through the streets, even the uneven step of the cobblestones is breathtaking. There is no city I have been to thus far that can compare in physical allure.

But there is even something different in the atmosphere of Paris that is intoxicating. On my first full day, I went on a river cruise on the Seine at sunset. I drank wine and reclined against the rails, feeling very much like I was in something Monet could've painted. The sky turned pink as the boat rounded the island that houses Notre Dame; further down the bank, the Eiffel Tower lit up the demure skyline. I felt more at peace than I ever imagined I would, being thousands of miles away from home. Everything felt peaceful.

I don't think I will ever be able to forget my first time visiting Paris and I am most definitely okay with that. I hope someday soon I will be able to find my way back to this place, but for now I am content to live in the perfect memories.

Now, you must excuse me. I was just served dinner on my Eurostar. Because I accidentally bought first class tickets. I'm not sorry.