I’ve been to France, mostly Paris, a dozen or more times, and every time I announce my plans to go, those who know me simply nod, unable to fathom the obsession I have with the country. It doesn’t matter, I am aware that only some of us understand Paris.
How I travel through France is easy. I do it mostly by train, and I alternate the cities or towns I plan to visit each year, making Paris always my last stop for a week or so to simply take it all in. I walk through the neighborhoods, stopping only at a cafe here and there to rest, and people watch. I picnic by the Seine River, I sunbathe seated on a chair in Luxembourg Gardens, and I watch the sun set by the Eifel Tower. Never once skipping on visiting several old bookstores, and thumbing through books I know I would never find here in the states. That’s all in Paris.
I’ve also circled the country from one end to the other, visiting castles, wineries, museums, war memorials, spectacular historical places, and even Disney World, and as I mentioned, I do it all by train, staying mostly in small villages or towns, with the most basic amenities–the entire time appreciating the culture, and admiring the countryside.