The train ride was long and rocky and I took breaks between working, sleeping and fighting nausea.  The toilets were clogged and the water coming out of the sink was brown.  The food service was minimal and I survived on a bread heavy tuna sandwich.  And while the journey was far from romantic, I made it to Paris.

Once in Paris I dragged my heavy suitcases through the metro and up the stairs.  I dodged grinning security guards who wanted to double check my ticket, not the other gentleman’s, and told them I was far from criminal.  Then I had the adventure of finding a woman I’d never met in a crowd to get my friend’s apartment key.

When I did get the key-and met the very friendly young woman-I took the wrong bus, couldn’t get the apartment code to work, made several phone calls to my mother to help me get the proper number, and finally lugged my bags up five flights up winding stairs to get here.

But I’m here in my friend’s lovely apartment in Paris and it was more than worth the trek.  I think I deserve things to go a little less than smoothly with my “It’s an adventure!” attitude.

After settling in I took myself out to a brasserie for a large salad with smoked salmon, shrimp, avocado and grapefruit, paired with a small glass of rose.  It was exactly what I needed, and when the waiter asked if I’d like anything else I said sleep and asked for the bill.

Now that I’m here, I feel alive and invigorated, excited to find my pace on these pavements once more.

I’ve got a big day of walking ahead of me tomorrow and some potential job hunting. The Parisian adventure begins…

Just as I’m starting to get comfortable it is time to leave for the next leg of my adventure.

I leave the country and the warmth of my family tomorrow as I take the train to Paris.

I spent the day walking, reading by the lake, picking fresh figs with my dad and feasting on French bread, paté, and several glasses of a sturdy table wine.

I’m happy to be adjusting and looking forward to the next part of my journey.

Pardonez moi, Madame?  Do you know where this hair salon is?

I pull out a small drawn out map to show the saleswoman.  She shrugs her shoulders.

Do you have a phone I can use?  I’m completely lost and have no cell phone!

We are five minutes late for our appointments and have no idea where the place is.

She looks at me in shock, almost disgust, and says non, non…non.

This happens several more times before I show a young woman on the street our drawn out map and she points out a street that’s been highlighted.  We thought the street was highlighted because it’s where our hotel is, but we quickly realize that merde, we’ve been running around the entire city trying to find a hair salon that’s on the same street as our hotel.

When we finally get there it is literally across the street from where we’re staying.  If we had looked out our hotel room window we would have seen it.  We sit in the salon hot and sweaty from running and I can’t stop laughing.  Somehow, no matter what, my mother and I manage to have an adventure.

We spent the night in Toulouse, the closest big city, and had two great days of walking, getting our hair done, shopping, talking and enjoying meals together.  After a summer of post-grad job blues, we realized we never even celebrated my graduation from university and wanted to do it in style.

And we did.  My mother is an excellent travel companion and partner in crime.  We always have fun, and when things go wrong, we laugh and make them right.

So when we both ordered “light and delicious” (said the French menu) salads at a cafe and they brought us fried chicken skewers and a small salad, we ate what we could and walked off the heaviness of our not so light meal.

When we went to a fancy restaurant for dinner and we waited for over twenty minutes with a wine menu with no one to take our order, we said screw it, and wandered around the city at 10 p.m. in search of somewhere better.  We ended up at a delicious little hole in the wall, with perfect roasted cod and peppercorn steak, a mini bottle of affordable wine for each of us.

Since I could walk I have travelled by my mother’s side.  After two days of shopping, where we actually managed to make some great purchases (usually we get annoyed and go read in a park instead), we sat in the train station drinking espressos.  “I feel rejuvenated, more grounded…” I told her.

I have been so anxious about where my life is going lately.  I have started to doubt myself at moments.  But the short time away gave me the energy I needed to move forward.  My mother says “You are fire, you can do anything you want,” and I’m starting to believe her.

It’s important to remember the important things in life.  Like a little self care, a little self confidence, a little sense of humor, and spending time with those who bring out the best in you.

View from our hotel

Mom in Place Capitole

Tiled roof, even in the big city

Oh le chat!

My mother always knows to carry a good book with her

Human statue

Waiting for the train back into the country

The goods: blouse, black jeans, Dior eyeliner, hair mask, ballet flats and a train ticket to Paris for Monday

Start your stay in Paris with a perfect café crème, shop the side streets and find a vintage Chanel purse, break for a moist macaron, eat a six course meal in a stranger’s apartment and finish the day with an affordable glass of wine at a funky bar. You may even get a ride home on a shiny Vespa from a well dressed Parisian.

The city has so much to offer beyond tourist sights and it was the small hidden streets, the quaint cafes and small boutiques that I liked best. I lived in Paris and learnt a lot about the city’s hidden gems and personal culture. I found that there are certain rules to being a woman in Paris and that it was much easier once you understood them. If you want to know about the Louvre or Notre Dame, buy a typical guide book, but if you want to know what perked the interest of this fanciful young woman who made Paris her home, keep reading.

Before living in Paris I often came for short visits.  I found it hard not to fall into the long lines of tourists and to be overcharged for my croissants and cafe cremes.  It took me time to find the streets lined with beautiful food shops, the perfect patios with cheap wine and the right place to lay my head at night.

A Young Woman’s Guide will make you the inside info that will help you plan the perfect stay.  It will set you up with a one, three and seven day itinerary on varied budgets.  As someone who has lived in Paris, I will even give you some useful tips if you choose to stay.  I will also use my personal experience to help you meet the most charming Frenchman, to get a chic Parisienne hair cut, to find the perfect black dress, to avoid getting your wallet stolen and to keep creeps from following you home.  Paris is yours for the taking, and I’m here to help you do it in style.

The book will include:

Charming hotels and apartments

Cafes and Restaurants

Bars and Nightlife

Food and Cooking

Shopping and Fashion

Beauty and Spas

Galleries and Museums

Walks and Parks

Packing and Safety Tips

Useful French Phrases

Easy to Follow City Maps

What would you like to see in a Paris Guide book for young women?

When I first came back to France as a teenager I couldn’t get enough of the small toasted pieces of bread covered in Nutella.  Those must have been my growing years as I remember always being hungry, even after a full meal, cheese course and dessert.

The next time I came I was blooming into a young woman and craved nothing more than beer with strawberry syrup while playing pool at the bar and an ice cold Oranginas to nurse my hangovers in the morning.

When I came back after living in Ireland at my lowest weight, I was relieved to crave the rich peppercorn steaks, stinky Roquefort cheese and fromage blanc after subsisting on vegetables and diet coke for too long.

The summer I fell for a French boy I was all about the strong coffee, stronger vodka and spicy bean salads.  When he broke my heart I craved whiskey and pancakes and hitchhiked to the next town over to get some.

In the past few years I’ve become more interested in fresh food and a good book than I am French boys and vodka.

These days nothing pleases me more than the giant fresh salads served at the restaurants during the summer, hard boiled eggs, bright yellow corn, juicy plums, sensual figs from the market, lean and salty saucisson and anything I can throw on the barbecue.

I may not be as wild as I was in my younger days, but I still love to fill my days with beauty.

I have made it to the airport in Paris.

Both flights were smooth, and here I am.  

My senses are alive with the smell of croissants, the sight of LaDurée macarons, Longchamps purses and espressos with sides of long packs of sugar.

France will always be my second home, and as I walked through the airport after landing I felt a little bit lighter.  This is where I need to be right now.

I need a little inspiration and I think I’ve already found it.

I’m flying down to Toulouse in an hour and will update more from down South.

La vie est belle.

After some late night stretching, baking, wine drinking, dancing in the kitchen and a little bit of packing, I am almost ready to go.

Today I fly.

First I fly to Toronto, where I’ll spend the night at an airport hotel with a close friend, and then I fly to France on Sunday.  

By Monday I will be driving through the French countryside towards my family’s new official home.  Without the house in Vancouver, this beautiful old house will be the official Young family residence.  

I am sad to go, but I’m excited to see what comes of my adventures in France.  I’m hoping for good food, great writing, fun videos and life experience.  It is in my own hands to make sure this happens.

I am testing new waters, becoming my own boss and learning to trust myself.

Life is always an adventure.

Stay tuned for some travel and packing tips!