Getting there

In the early hours of my eighteenth birthday, my parents, Ruby and I set off to the airport. Ruby and I were headed to Chicago, then New York, then Copenhagen, then Paris. It would take two days. Leave  early June 23, arrive late June 25. We knew we were in for an adventure, but oblivious to the bumps in the road that would make it a grand and somewhat stressful adventure.

We got to Midway just fine. After checking the board for the third time, we noticed our flight was delayed. Oh well, we had a long layover in New York. Well, time went on and the flight ended up being canceled. Three failed attempts at stand-by later, there was no way to make it to New York for our trans-Atlantic flight. We called our parents and wondered about our fate. We wondered around the Midway airport, occasionally splurging on food on account that it was my 18th birthday and we were starving. We got some pizza (not deep dish, but alright) and some frozen yogurt. Meanwhile, my parents and everyone in the office were running wild, frantically looking for a flight from Chicago to Paris that wasn't exorbitant. It was June: high tourist season, it was the day of....talk about mission impossible. 

But our parents worked their travel agency magical powers somehow and found us flights for that day, on one of the best airlines in the world, leaving from Chicago, for only $600. Miracle of miracles. To make the flight, Ruby and I took a train (the orange line then the blue line) from Midway to O'hare. There were some nice Chicagoens to give us directions. We got there, bought an overpriced chicken sandwich, then boarded. Turkish Airlines is the luxury line of airlines. Holy cow, it was so nice. We got hot towels to clean our hands or face before dinner, lots of entertainment, and a complimentary bag. The bag had toothpaste, toothbrush, slippers, blanket, eye-mask, and chapstick. And get this, the meals were good! Like really good. I thought that good airline meals didn't exist, but they do. Oh, they do. We had chocolate mouse, pureed potatoes, warm bread, salmon, hamburger, melon, and steamed veggies over the course of our two flights. We got to Istanbul...and were completely lost. There's no sounding out Turkish. We kept asking what terminal we were in and they'd just tell us to check the board. The board never changed and by the time we were supposed to be boarding, we were a little stressed! Finally, it changed and everything worked out. We waited at the terminal and tried to take in as much of Istanbul as we could through the airport windows and in our exhausted, jet-lagged state. Another Turkish Airlines flight to Paris, and finally, we touched down in the City of Lights. 30 hours later. 

We bought some tickets, took a train to St. Michel, and walked up the stairs to PARIS. Our backpacks felt like they weighed a million pounds at this point and we had enough adrenaline in our systems to last the rest of the trip. Eventually, I recognized where we were and headed to the Latin Quarter, the most familiar place to us in all of Paris, our old stomping grounds. We messaged Victor and agreed to meet at St. Michel fountain. We found him there waiting, looking down at his phone, leaning against a lightpost like he was posing for a magazine. We were so excited to see him! It's been a year, and even though a lot has changed, we picked up right where we left off in Salt Lake City last year when he visited us. We were also so happy to find our apartment, take a shower and sleep. Victor's city just had carnival, which meant lots of partying and staying up late. Like 5 in the morning late. That put him on the same schedule as us (behind Europe by 8 hours) so we were all jet-lagged. We slept prettttttty soundly that night.