Before diving into the details of my journey, let me offer a crucial piece of advice: always double-check the entry requirements for the country you’re visiting.

As a seasoned traveler who has ventured to Europe multiple times, I made the mistake of assuming I was prepared for anything. That assumption nearly cost me my trip to France.

The Passport Saga

My wife and I arrived at IAH airport, excited to begin our vacation. After the usual baggage weigh-in, the attendant swiped my wife’s passport. She noticed the name discrepancy between the passport and the reservation, but we were prepared—we had a copy of our marriage license handy. With that sorted, the attendant moved on to my passport. She swiped it once, twice, three times. Finally, she looked up, her expression turning apologetic.

“I’m sorry, sir,” she said. “I can’t check you in—your passport doesn’t meet the entry requirements.”

I blinked in confusion. “What do you mean?”

She explained, “France requires your passport to be valid for at least three months beyond your travel dates. Yours expires just a few days too soon.”

Stunned, I stared at my passport, searching for a solution. “Is there anything I can do?”

The attendant quickly jotted down a couple of phone numbers. “You can try calling our customer service or the passport office.”

I wasted no time and dialed the airline’s customer service. The representative, though friendly, couldn’t override the requirement. “You’ll need to renew your passport, but I can rebook your flight.”

Disappointed, I relayed the news to my wife. Without missing a beat, she contacted the passport office using the number provided. Luckily, she secured me a next-day appointment at 7 a.m., and I rescheduled my flight for the following day.

The attendant finished checking in my wife. While it was frustrating that we wouldn’t be traveling together, we were relieved that the situation was manageable.

The next morning, I arrived at the passport office at 6:30 a.m., only to find a line already forming. The man ahead of me turned and joked, “Am I the only one who forgot to check his passport’s expiration date?”

I chuckled and raised my hand, along with a few others.

Thankfully, the process inside was efficient. By 1 p.m., I had a renewed passport in hand, ready to continue our journey.

The Journey to Paris

With my passport renewed and my travel plans back on track, I finally boarded my 9-hour KLM flight to Nantes, France, with a 2-hour layover in Amsterdam.

During my layover, I wandered through the bustling Amsterdam airport and stumbled upon a meditation room. Since I had time to spare before my next flight, I decided to take advantage of the calm atmosphere.

The room was thoughtfully stocked with prayer rugs, religious texts, rosaries, and other spiritual artifacts. I found a quiet spot by the wall, closed my eyes, and practiced deep breathing.

It was a unique experience to share this serene space with people from different faiths—Muslims, Buddhists, Christians. The sense of unity and the quiet power of shared worship was palpable.

After meditating, I set off to find my gate. As I navigated the terminal, I noticed a long line of travelers snaking through the area.

The signs above indicated that this was the line for Passport Control, right near my gate. I hadn’t expected to go through immigration until I reached France, so this caught me off guard. I started to worry that the long wait might cause me to miss my flight. Fortunately, the line moved faster than I anticipated, and I made it to my gate with time to spare.

To my surprise, I was even upgraded to business class. Although it was on a small plane, I was grateful for the extra comfort, which included a meal and freshly pressed juice.

I finally arrived in France, where I was warmly greeted by my wife and our host, both of whom were thrilled to see me.

We drove to his home, where I quickly took a shower and caught a brief nap before heading to the train station for our two-hour journey to Paris.

The train raced along the tracks, offering glimpses of France’s lush, verdant countryside. The peaceful scenery gently lulled me to sleep.

By the time we arrived at the Gare Montparnasse train station in Paris, we were feeling quite hungry. We grabbed a couple of sandwiches from Paul, an establishment renowned for its bakery and iconic French dishes, and made our way to our Airbnb, which was situated on a charming side street near a bike rental shop and a cool-looking restaurant called Haitian Mama

The apartment itself was cozy, but there was an odd quirk—the toilet was on the first floor, while the shower was in the basement. Our host explained that it’s not uncommon in French apartments to have the toilet and shower in separate spaces, though they’re usually on the same floor.

While this setup was a bit inconvenient, we didn’t let it dampen our spirits. After settling in, we rested up for the busy day of exploring Paris that awaited us.

I woke up the next morning feeling refreshed and ravenous. After navigating the quirky toilet and shower setup, I set out to find some croissants and coffee. Just around the corner from our Airbnb, I spotted a line of locals outside a small café called Kozy Boquet. That was clearly the spot I’d been searching for.

I ordered a croissant and a coffee, while my wife chose the eggs Benedict dish called the Salmon Benny. As soon as I took a bite of the croissant, I was in heaven—the pastry was perfectly buttery and flaky. One wasn’t enough; I immediately ordered another. My wife’s breakfast was equally impressive, served on a fluffy brioche with smoked salmon, eggs, and a smoked paprika hollandaise sauce. It was also delicious.

Cruising the Seine River

With our bellies full, we hopped into an Uber and headed to the dock for our Eiffel Tower Seine River Cruise.

I was especially excited about this cruise since the Olympic athletes had recently paraded down the same river during the opening ceremony.

As we sailed, we took in the breathtaking views of iconic landmarks like the Eiffel Tower and Notre Dame.

Passing beneath historic bridges, including the Pont de Bir-Hakeim, added to the charm of the journey.

Our guide shared fascinating stories hidden behind each turn, bringing the city’s rich history to life.

We also passed by stunning historical buildings like the Louvre and the Hôtel de Ville, making the cruise a perfect blend of sightseeing and storytelling.

You’re from Texas?

After the cruise, we decided to grab a snack on the dock.

While waiting in line, I struck up a conversation with a man named Karim, who initially tried speaking to me in French.

I sheepishly admitted that I only spoke English. He smiled and switched to my language effortlessly.

“Where are you from?” he asked.

“Texas,” I replied.

“TEXAS???” he exclaimed, his eyes widening in disbelief. “How can you live in Texas as a Black man? There are so many guns and racist people. Aren’t you afraid of getting killed?”

He mimicked holding guns and made exaggerated shooting noises, clearly concerned.

I reassured him that while Texas does have its share of guns and racism, I feel safe in my hometown of Houston.

Karim, however, remained worried. “I’m a driver,” he explained. “People talk freely in my car because they think I’m invisible. I’ve driven many people from Texas, and they often complain about how there are too many Blacks and Mexicans. They use such hateful language. I wouldn’t want to live there.”

Karim was born in Morocco and moved to Michigan for college, where he met his wife.

They had a daughter and enjoyed several years of marriage before things took a turn for the worse.

“That woman drove me crazy,” he said with a rueful smile.

After his divorce, Karim moved to Paris, where he now drives wealthy travelers around the city.

“I love it here,” he said. “It’s laid back and relaxing, and I don’t have to worry about getting shot.”

We chatted for a while longer until Karim leaned over to my wife and said, “Your husband is a good man.”

“How do you know that?” she asked, intrigued. “I can feel it in his spirit,” he replied warmly.

As we prepared to part ways, Karim chuckled and said, “Be careful when you return home. Don’t get shot.”

One of the things I love most about traveling is meeting new people and hearing their stories. I may never see Karim again, but our conversation will stay with me forever.

Admiring The Eiffel Tower

The main reason for my pilgrimage to Paris was to behold the Eiffel Tower in all its glory.

While I’ve seen countless photos and videos over the years, nothing could have prepared me for the sheer magnificence of seeing this iconic structure in person.

Standing at the base, I craned my neck upward, marveling at the intricate ironwork that stretched to the heavens.

As I circled the structure, each new angle revealed fresh details and perspectives.

The interplay of sunlight on the iron lattice created mesmerizing patterns, a testament to the tower’s artistic as well as engineering merits.

Yet, amidst the bustle of tourists vying for the perfect photo angle, I was touched by the sight of locals sprawled on the surrounding lawns.

They picnicked, chatted, and basked in the tower’s presence with a comfortable familiarity, a beautiful juxtaposition of the extraordinary and the everyday.

At that moment, I understood that the Eiffel Tower was more than just a landmark – it was the beating heart of Paris, a symbol of human achievement, and a testament to the enduring power of beauty and innovation.

Dinner at Le Bouchon Parisien

By this time we were ready for dinner. We walked a few blocks and discovered Le Bouchon Parisien.

The hostess seated us at an outdoor table so we could enjoy the 70-degree weather and watch the people go by.

We started our meal with two quintessential French dishes: foie gras, a delicacy so revered it’s protected by French law as part of the country’s cultural heritage, and escargot.

As I tasted the foie gras, it melted on my tongue, unleashing a symphony of flavors. Rich, buttery, and velvety smooth, it was accented by subtle sweetness and nutty undertones. The complex taste evolved with each bite, from savory umami to delicate mineral notes, offering a luxurious, unforgettable culinary experience.

When I lifted an escargot to my lips, I was enticed by the aroma of garlic and herbs. The tender snail, nestled in its shell, offered a delightful resistance before yielding to my bite. Its texture was surprisingly meaty yet delicate, with an earthy richness. The garlicky butter sauce amplified the flavor, adding a luxurious depth.

To complement these exquisite appetizers, we ordered a bottle of Chateau Vieux Laroque Bordeaux.

As I swirled the wine in my glass, the deep ruby color caught the light, hinting at the complexity within. The aroma wafted up, enticing me with notes of ripe black fruits, subtle oak, and a whisper of earthiness. Taking my first sip, I was greeted by a velvety smoothness that caressed my palate.

Next we ordered two entrees to share. My wife got the Confit de canard du sud ouest which translates to “duck confit from the southwest. Confit de canard is a classic French dish of duck that’s salt-cured and slowly cooked in its own fat. The duck is then covered in fat again and kept in a container, often vacuum-sealed until it’s ready to eat.

When the dish was finally served, I couldn’t wait to dig in. The crisp exterior gave way to a melt-in-your-mouth interior, while the rich, buttery fat coated my palate with a luxurious flavor. But it was the subtle, lingering saltiness that truly elevated the dish. The salt had been expertly balanced, enhancing the natural flavors of the duck without overpowering them.

I ordered the Entrecôte, a French term that refers to a cut of beef similar to a ribeye steak. It was tender, succulent, and juicy. The dish came with frites and I had to eat them as the French do, with mayonnaise. Although it was a flavor combination I was not used to, I enjoyed it nonetheless.

After dinner, we walked the streets of Paris to soak in the ambiance With the Eiffel Tower lit in the background.

The Iconic Le Dôme

We decided to stop for a drink at the iconic Le Dôme, a legendary gathering place of painters, sculptors, poets, models, and writers that first opened in 1898.

Our jovial and friendly waiter seemed to know everyone who entered the establishment as well as everyone who passed by.

He greeted each guest with a warm smile and a familiar name, creating a welcoming and intimate atmosphere.

As we sipped our drinks, a familiar face caught my wife’s attention. It was a modeling colleague from her South African days.

It had been years since they’d last crossed paths, and their reunion was filled with laughter and catching up.

Her friend introduced us to his companion, a former dancer in the French Riviera. She regaled us with tales of elaborate cabaret shows, of late nights spent with other creative expats. It was a world away from the one she’d left behind, a place where artists thrived and their passions were celebrated.

As we sat there, surrounded by the vibrant energy of Le Dôme, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of belonging.

This was where we were meant to be, a city that nurtured spirits and inspired our souls.

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