I love to travel. I grew up as an airline brat with both of my parents working for USAirways, and I took my first plane ride before I could even sit up by myself. By the time I reached the precocious age of six, I was already turning away souvenir clip-on wings from pilots, saying, “No, thank you. I have too many already,” much to the chagrin of my mother.

Fast forward more than ten countries, every continental U.S. state, hundreds of plastic-cup tomato juices (most often with ice), and at least two dozen bags of those little pretzel peanut things, and I still have sand in my Chucks. I was fortunate enough to a marry a swell guy who is also in love with the world.

My husband Allen not only loves to travel, but he is also fluent in German having studied abroad in Würzburg while he was in college, circa 2004. I took my first trip to Paris in February 2005, so for this year’s big trip, we decided to visit Germany and France. Allen took to planning the German portion of our adventure since he lived there, and I set to work on the France leg, since that was my area of expertise. See also: Fromage.

Our trip started last Thursday, as we flew from Nashville to Charlotte to Paris. We prepped for the Charlotte to Paris portion by fueling up on Pinkberry at Charlotte-Douglas International Airport, a decision that would later be paramount when our stewardess ran out of chicken and presented us with the world’s smallest portion of pasta for our in-flight dinner. I’ve never been one to sleep on a flight, but I came prepared for this trip with a 1970s disco-style sleeping mask I purchased the week before at my local Michaels, hours of Mumford on my iPod, and two Advil PMs.

I still didn’t sleep, but I’m pretty sure I looked very fashionable and I now know every word to every Mumford song ever.

When we finally arrived in Paris at 7:00 a.m. local time, we were giddy with excitement. Even our hour-long taxi ride to the hotel in the morning rush didn’t dampen our spirits. We were delirious from no sleep and the promise of pain au chocolat and other pastries we weren’t even sure existed except in our dreams.

After arriving at the amazing Hotel Opera Deauville near Gare St. Lazare (the same hotel I stayed at eight years earlier), we had our first breakfast in the adorable little brick basement cafe in our hotel. Complete with the aforementioned pain au chocolate, cold cuts, hard boiled eggs, and delicious coffee, we refueled before heading out for some sight-seeing. We visited Notre Dame, the Jardin des Tuileries, and of course the Louvre. We walked along the Seine and just took it all in. Allen was so excited to be in Paris, and I was really enjoying acting as our tour guide. My French was a bit rusty, but it came back to me. It’s like riding a bicyclette.

For dinner, we ate the popular French sandwich, the croque Madame, which is basically a grilled ham and cheese sandwich with an egg on top. We will literally eat anything if you put an egg on it.

The next day, we woke up super early, grabbed some Nutella crepes, and headed out to the Eiffel Tower. It should be noted that Nutella is everywhere here. I think it’s the official condiment of France. But I digress.

It’s been on my bucket list to have a picnic lunch on the grass in front of said Tower, so we stopped by the grocer and picked up a freshly baked baguette, two types of French cheese (one that had green fur on it), and two tiny bottles of wine (more on this later). We took the metro and as soon as we stepped onto the platform, we saw it. It’s kind of a big deal and even though I’d seen it before, it still amazes me.

We stood in line for a few minutes before we realized we were not allowed to take glass bottles up to the top, which was awkward since we had brought our picnic lunch with us. We were not about to throw out two perfectly good bottles of wine, so I did what anyone in my situation would do. I hid them under a shrub.

We made it though the line in about 45 minutes and bought our tickets to the top. Since we’re both in good shape, we decided to walk. Let me just say there are a heck of a lot of steps and my fanny is still burning. The climb was worth it, because the view is absolutely amazing. You can see all of Paris, and I’m also pretty sure I saw our house in Nashville. Someone really needs to cut the grass.

We decided to take the elevator down because we were starting to get hungry. And we were also curious as to how our wine-in-brush was holding up. Much to our satisfaction, it was exactly where I left it — untouched and ready for consumption. Fantastique!

I have to say, when I was sitting in the grass in front of the Eiffel Tower with Allen, snacking on cheese and sipping wine, I thought, it doesn’t get much better than this unless cake is involved. We did bring some chocolate raspberry cookies, which were quite popular with the gypsy set. Some woman came by and insisted that we give her one of the cookies. It’s all fun and games until someone tries to steal your cookies.

In the afternoon, we headed over to the Arc de Triomphe and the Champs-Élysées. Allen was a real wet blanket and insisted that I stop running across traffic. He said I had to wait for the green man to show up. I told him he really needs to live a little.

After a full day of walking and touring, we were once again famished. If you know us, you know we’re always famished, so why would the Europe Smiths be any different?

We decided to get some pasta and wine at a restaurant near our hotel. I had a four-cheese pasta and Allen tried foie gras for the first time. We also had wine, which if Nutella is the official condiment of France, wine is the official beverage. For dessert, we had a delicious creamy-peanut-brittley-caramel thing that was dee-lish. After dinner, we just walked around Paris. It’s a beautiful city and seeing it lit up at night was breath-taking. We concluded the evening at a local pub where we grabbed a couple 1664 beers, which Allen has dubbed the PBR of France. We’re hipsters and we love PBR so this worked out swimmingly.

Today, we slept in a little bit and grabbed a bite near St. Lazare. We shared a Parisian salad of cheese, ham, tomatoes, and eggs, and also had a delicious ham and cheese omelet. I just started eating meat again not that long ago, but I have to say that the ham in France is really delicious. It all tastes like the roasted ham usually reserved for a fancy Easter feast.

After lunch, we went to Montmartre. I saw a show at the Moulin Rouge on my first visit, and I remember it being really artistic and bohemian. There were street artists, tons of quaint shops, and a good number of unsavory people who only came out after dark. I’m not saying I miss them, but it sort of added to the overall ambiance and carefree vibe. This time around it was quite different.

It’s still my favorite part of Paris and it’s still artsy, but it has evolved quite a bit in eight years. There are more cafes and small businesses (and even a Starbucks, which was sort of odd), and it seems much safer. It’s definitely more trendy, but it’s still unique and worth seeing if you’ve never been.

After taking some pics in front of the Moulin Rouge, we made the circular trek up to the top of Montmartre where the Sacre Coeur overlooks all of Paris. To get away from the early summer crowd, we ducked into a small coffee shop for a quick café au lait and another pain au chocolate before heading back toward town.

Tonight’s dinner was easily the best thing we’ve eaten on our trip so far. We found this really tiny pizzeria with homemade everything. We had a carafe of wine, a garden salad, and a ham and cheese pizza. It was pretty much the best pizza I’ve ever had in my life. We did a bit more walking around the city after dinner before heading back to the hotel, which brings me to now. Tomorrow we have an early train to Würzburg, Germany, so I’ll say bonne soirée for now!