“Good morning, sir. Which breakfast would you like?” I awoke and blinked a few times to adjust my eyes to the dimly lit, glowing, fluorescent lights of the Boeing 777. As the other uniformed flight attendants gently woke the rest of the sleeping passengers, I responded “uhh, the warm breakfast, please.” A few short minutes later, the same flight attendant handed me a tray, upon which was a croissant, blueberry muffin, some white bread, and individual packets of butter. Later, when the plane’s oversized wheels screeched to a halt seven hours after take-off, we deboarded the plane individually. We surprisingly zoomed through security and border control then filed into a white van toward our hotel, the Marriott on the Champs-Elysees.
Our vacation started when my two uncles popped the question earlier that year and asked if my brother and I would like to accompany them on a week-long European Vacation. Our aunt surprised us the night before we left and hinted that she was coming along with us, too. And soon enough, there we stood, on one of the most famous streets in the entire world. We strolled the cobblestoned Champs-Elysees, and crossed the eight-lane street lined with small, two-person cars and weaving motorcyclists as far as the eye could see. I shifted my line of sight from my path to the west, and there we gazed upon a majestic marble sculpture: the Arc de Triomphe. The sight of the morning sunrise all around the arch made me stop in the middle of the road and gaze upon the beauty of this national landmark.
We continued walking down the hundreds of years old cobblestone streets until we reached a place called TrocadÃ©ro. As we turned the corner of the building, standing tall was the tall, yet slim, steel structure of the
On the last day of our trip, we ventured on the Metro to the outskirts of town to SacrÃ©–Cœur. As I peered above the masses of people and street vendors, I could see the white large church and its three large domes at the top of many steps covering the hill. Climbing the steps took a few moments but when at the top, I turned around in awe of the spectacular view. Sitting on those steps, letting the music of street performers sooth you, makes you realize, “Hey, this is real. This city is coming alive before me at night, with the lights in the buildings, and the flowers in the windows of townhouses, and the people roaming the streets. This city, this masterpiece, is Paris.
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