A Rainy Day in a Beautiful City

I had already packed my entire blue and brown suitcase to its limits and was quite proud of myself for squeezing in practically my whole wardrobe. However, when my parents entered my room, they took one look at my overstuffed case and sighed. I was reminded that I would be the one lugging my things around airports, boat docks, and train stations for the next month, not them. With this in mind, I grudgingly removed my favorite pair of Rocket Dogs as well as many other “unnecessary” items.

            Finally, we were ready to leave. Our family had an inside joke that this vacation would be like a military operation. Everything was time sensitive and no one except my father quite knew the schedule. Our general destination was Europe, visiting Paris, among other places. We would be there for a week, residing in a rented apartment.

            We stayed in Paris during the second week of July. Being the only one in my family that speaks understandable French, I was assigned to do most of the talking to the French natives. Over the progression of the week, I started to become self-assured with my French speaking skills, maybe even a little too assured.

I fell in love with Paris instantaneously. However, the weather was ever changing and there were tourists everywhere, even though I knew that I myself was one of them. One particular night, my family decided that we should go up the Eiffel Tower, reasoning that the lines would be shorter. When we arrived, the lines were absolutely awful, but we decided to wait anyway. All of a sudden, out of nowhere, lightening illuminated the sky. That was the deciding factor for my parents; there was no way we were going up during a thunderstorm. So, with defeat in our hearts we left, making our way to the subway.

After crossing some streets, with the immense Eiffel tower looming over us, my dad decided that the lightening in the background of the tower would make for a great picture. We then proceeded for the next twenty minutes to somehow capture that perfect shot. After my dad was satisfied, we again headed for the subway when we heard a whooshing noise coming from behind us. As we looked back, we heard piercing screams coming from the people on the top of the tower. A huge wall of water was coming straight at us, like a huge hand coming to push us away. Someone screamed “Run!” and all of a sudden, chaos ensued. My sister, brother, and I all rushed for the subway entrance, with our parents lagging behind. The wind was strong and the rain was freezing. It hurt as it pierced my back. Finally making it to the packed subway, with everyone else who was trying to escape the rain, I was able to see clearly and looked around. In a span of two minutes, my whole family was entirely soaked. We all looked at ourselves and began to laugh. When we reached home, we dried off and headed for bed, thankful that we didn’t go up to the top of the tower.

On our last day there, I felt certain emptiness as I dragged my suitcase down the stairs. I would miss this city, especially the little unknown parts that were so deeply immersed in culture. I longed to stay in Paris longer and to be able to become more familiar with the people. Yet, life goes on, and as I looked through the train window as it I left the city, I knew that I would return again.