What happened on your first trip to Paris?

Do you remember your first trip to Paris? For me, I was underprepared, underfunded, and had my underage brother by my side.

But it turned out to be a magical experience. You’ve probably heard the story, it was on the podcast a few years back.

Anyway, I put the question on social media to hear YOUR stories about your first trips and the responses came flooding in.

It was amazing to see how many stories started off with negative anecdotes, but ended with romance, fun, or cherished memories. We had daredevil trips down the Champs-Elysées, a lot of bedbugs, and one incredible hero.

Thanks so much for sharing the stories.

Together with my brother Eddie, we read through our favourite responses. Listen below and subscribe wherever you get your pods.

In a rush? Then listen to the podcast later and have a scroll through some of the comments from the Instagram and Facebook communities!

Today’s bonus episode includes the first glimpse into the audio experience for my new memoir, Paris On Air.

That’ll do for now, more podcast episodes on the way as always!

4 thoughts on “What happened on your first trip to Paris?

  1. If you really want to hear a sad story about my first visit I will tell you. I flees from Atlanta to CDG. On landing I turned my phone back on. That is when I found out my sister was murdered. The Delta/Air France people immediately got me back on the next plane. I was on the ground for less than 2 hours. They were all incredibly gracious and helpful. I will never forget their kindness. Next year I returned and spent 4 weeks in Paris and had a wonderful time.

    1. I am very sorry to read of this tragedy. I can’t even begin to imagine what you went through. However, I’m glad you managed to make it back to Paris and create some nice memories. Thanks for sharing

  2. We arrived at Gare du Nord from London . We were very careful to catch a proper taxi as opposed to the non-taxis. I found one and my husband called out that he had one, so we loaded up and and went to Opera. We paid 50€ !! The hotel staff told us that even the genuine taxis were doing this to tourist and locals. It should have been about 15€ approx. It was the drivers last trip before going home. We learnt our lesson, to check the taxi meter was switched on, and hoped he spent the money on his family. We adored the rest of our week in Paris, walked from Opera via Bastille to the Eiffel Tower and home again, We met a friend living there who took us to a restaurant in St. Dennis, set up like a school house, with tons of photos of Laura Ingalls and Little House on the Prarie, ate the best falafels at a place in the Marais, walked everywhere every day, saw lots, took a million photos of the doors, always felt safe learned how to cross roads against the lights, got turned away at the Louvre because of a bomb scare, took a Bato boat along the Seine, saw the beach and deck chairs set up on the bank, darted across the road to the Arc de Triomphe, then discovered the underground tunnel, loved every minute of Paris and can’t wait to get back to explore more.

  3. My late wife and I honeymooned in Paris during April, 2000. Of the many amazing experiences we had, our favorite was an evening dancing at Caveau de la Huchette. We didn’t fit in at first, as we were two middle aged Americans and arrived in evening attire, having dined earlier somewhere across the river. But the jazz band was smoking hot, so out we went on to the small, crowded dance floor. Close quarters East-coast swing dancing at first, but after six or eight songs the floor was almost empty and we had room to move. Then we realized the band was playing to us alone, changing styles and tempos almost as fast as we could adjust, hitting over 300 beats per minute at times for over ten minutes. We threw everything in our dance arsenal back at them – street swing, Lindy hop, Charleston, Balboa, collegiate shag. We were one with the band and ended exactly on the beat, from my wife at a right full extension into triple spin to the left and a deep dip, with me lunging to a knee and her body inches from the floor, lips embracing. The crowd loved it. That woman could dance. We thought we would always have Paris in the Spring. RIP, Sweet.

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