After a year's planning, I'll be departing for Paris, France, in precisely 8 days, 22 hours, and 26 minutes. (Yes, I did, in fact, download the Countdown app on my phone).
As you can probably decipher, I'm ecstatically excited for my first-ever European adventure. This is a fantasy vacation, one I never though would become reality...until I took a second, seasonal job last summer at a local amusement park and decided to make it happen by earning the cost of a one-week guided tour. It wasn't without effort. It was approximately 20 weekends of long, hot, sweaty work, often until 1 a.m. or after, followed by zombielike exhaustion the next day(s).
But it was worth the sacrifice. Although I hadn't calculated how many hours I'd need to work to earn the total cost (math isn't my favorite), I netted exactly enough (a sure sign I was meant to go). I spent the subsequent months researching various tours and comparing flight costs before I pulled the trigger in October after finding inexpensive flights from NYC to Paris that I couldn't risk forfeiting and an affordable tour that included everything (French-speaking guide, hotel, meals, metro and museum passes) - except a visit to Versailles (which I'll attempt solo) - I was seeking.
So I booked my flights and tour and thought I was set. Until one February afternoon when I received a voicemail from my tour company stating that the tour dates I'd chosen (intentionally to coincide with my birthday) had been cancelled due to "low enrollment." The company would reschedule my tour at no expense, but it was back to the drawing board for booking my flights. The next few days were stressful ones in the midst of an already busy week. I realized I had basically two choices (since cancelling my trip altogether was never an option): the week before or the week after. The tour company recommended the week after because it already had a sufficient enrollment and was guaranteed to run. (No guarantee for the earlier dates.) I couldn't risk another cancellation (and additional rebooking fees), so I went with the safe bet. (And was rewarded with a generous refund to offset my airlines' rebooking fees.)
And I've no doubt it was the right decision. It's funny now, looking back to last summer when I could only dream of being where I am now, starting to pack and making final preparations for this hard-earned vacation that will undoubtedly change my life. A year ago - even a few months ago - it seemed impossibly far away.
Then last weekend, realizing I was leaving in two weeks, I started to panic, unsure if I was as prepared as I'd thought, and started packing. I'm determined to avoid my previous vacations' mistakes: most notably, not checking the weather forecast before I selected my vacation attire, resulting in a suitcase full of capris and T-shirts for 50- and 60-degree Arizona weather (in which I immediately froze) and last year's procrastinated packing for California, which led to a full-blown panic attack the afternoon before I left.
I'll use this upcoming (extra) week wisely, celebrating my birthday at home with family and friends (having my cake and eating it too, if you will...), gradually packing my suitcase, catching my breath, and savoring the anticipation - an essential precursor to any journey - of what lies ahead.
