Real Talk

I have discovered that writing a blog can be like having a relationship. Granted, I am highly inexperienced in the romantic sense of a relationship, but as with any friendship, it has different phases. There are times of high activity, pouring an intense amount of interest and presence in it. On the other hand, it can be followed by periods of negligence and distraction. Sometimes, priorities get shifted and you take breaks, only revisiting it occasionally.

This blog started a good 3 years ago, and that fact makes me start thinking. I first approached the writing with an energy fueled by excitement of the unknown. Ribz and I were about to embark on one of the greatest adventures of our lives, and that sense oozed throughout my posts.

Jumping ahead to 2017, with the whirlwind of the Special Convention in Milan, Italy. It's with more than a small hint of embarrassment that I haven't finished chronicling that trip here. I tend to procrastinate, and the Italy series is a classic example of that. Since I have told quite a few about our European adventures, I believed that I would begin to sound repetitive. 

After coming back from Europe and entering into 2018, I had a bit of a conflicted feeling towards writing the blog. I erroneously assumed that because I wouldn't be travelling much this year, running the blog would be pointless. The writer's block showed up and the radio silence began. I got wrapped up in other pursuits and lost interest in catching up. There was significantly less joy in something that I had previously loved.

I put this on my Instagram Highlights early this year, feeling like the Adventurous Adventures were halting. 

Recently, I've been giving a lot of thought towards improvement/positive changes I'd like to see. This blog was made to be enjoyed, by reader and writer alike. I want to revamp and get back into the swing of writing for the real pleasure of it. As new adventures in my theocratic career hover over the horizon, I await with (hopefully) more motivation and enthusiasm to pen them.

Here's hoping! :)

This was a bit different than my regular posts. Dare I say, it leaned towards being cathartic. I will attempt finishing off the fabulous Europe stories, hopefully before the 2 year anniversary of that trip.

That's all for tonight, sweet BlueBearies! Thanks for taking the time to read all of that and stay tuned for the next post.

Love,

The Adventurous A 

Nom-Noms of Paris

Dear BlueBearies,

If you're anything like me, you are ALWAYS hungry. The mere mention of something delicious is enough to send the salivary glands into overdrive, eagerly anticipating satisfaction. Today's blog, unlike 90% of my usual posts or this last Nom-Nom episode, will be predominantly picture-based. This Nom-Nom episode will hopefully bring to you much visual joy as you travel along this gastronomical paradise that is Paris.

Bon appétit!!!

To be totally honest, the food tastes infinitely better when enjoyed with your fellow brothers and sisters. Sure, the country can be well-renowned for its cuisine, but what is all that without the grand company of your friends in the faith? To echo the words of Ecclesiastes 3:12,13: "I have concluded that there is nothing better for them than to rejoice and to do good during their life, also that everyone should eat and drink and find enjoyment for all his hard work. It is the gift of God."

Stay tuned for the next post!!

Love,

The Adventurous A.

Sabrina! (Paris Blog Nugget #2)

Bonjour aaaaand a good day to you!! This fun little nugget will begin with a story. Specifically, with a film, namely Sabrina. NO not the well-loved 1954 version with the GORGEOUS Audrey Hepburn, but rather the sweet 1995 version with Harrison Ford and Julia Ormond.

If you recall the film's premise, the chauffeur's daughter Sabrina (who is crushing HARD on the boss' younger son) receives the opportunity to go intern with Vogue in Paris, France. At the onset, the character is modelled in the fashion of characters like Mia Thermopolis in The Princess Diaries: frumpy, not stylish whatsoever, with long unkempt hair.

Sabrina's time spent in the evocative fashion atmosphere of Paris is life-altering; she returns home a changed woman: style, femininity, and confidence oozing from every pore.

When I first saw this Sabrina, I was QUITE young. I did not appreciate the humor and wit until much later, but what stood out was how drastic and amazing that haircut was. It was bold and daring, and she ROCKED that look. I made a decision at that moment: the day I make it to Paris, I would chop off ALL my hair.

Mind you, I've had short hair before. Around the age of 11-12, I cut my hair, going from waist-length to a Halle Berry-style bob. However, prepubescent haircuts are VERY different from haircuts as an adult. By the time of this trip, my hair had grown out back to waist-length, even as far as being dubbed Medusa due to the wild curly waves. It became an identifying mark, recognizable from a distance.

When Ribz and I first were accepted as delegates, we were thinking of just heading straight to Italy and spending all of our time there. Upon further discussion, we decided to go a week earlier to stay in Paris with our friends. As soon as we opted on Paris, I immediately contacted Sara and asked her if she could hunt around for a sister who could cut my hair. I had only one condition: tell no one else of my plans. The only ones privy to my plans were the following: my parents, Ribz and Sara. NO ONE ELSE had any idea of what I was going to do.

I'm going to fill you in on a not-so-secret secret: the Latino culture is REALLY big on women with long hair. It's a celebrated trait in traditional beauty standards; you won't often see a pixie cut in this community. Ask some ladies about short hair, and perhaps their shortest 'do would have grazed their shoulders. I had gotten endless compliments over the years concerning my own locks, but the itch for something shockingly new was far too tantalizing to resist. Fortunately, both of my parents are quite avant garde in terms of things of this nature, so they were 100% on board with my decision. The only one who took longer to be convinced was Ribz, whose voiced doubts would last till the day I actually went through.

Back to the mane story. (See what I did there?)

I had a good 7 months to research and Pinterest pixie cuts to my heart's content, finally settling on a chic above the ears style. Sara found a sister in her congregation named Deborah who works as a hairdresser conveniently, so arrangements were made for the haircut to be done our last day in France.

Now we fast forward to the day of. We'd finished our Bethel tour and returned to the bustling heart of fair Paris. Sara, being in a rush to help finalize our last meal, told me that she'd drop me off near Deborah's home and pick me up later.

WAIT. WHAT?

I was completely caught off guard when we drove up to a random lady (in my opinion) walking her small dogs. In a French exchange far too fast for me to catch,  Sara made arrangements for the lady, who happened to be a fellow Witness friend, to take me to Deborah's. I got out quickly and followed the sister to a door, feeling completely comme un poisson hors de l’eau. The door opened, and away the sister skiddaddled, leaving me with Deborah smiling at each other the way people who don't speak the same language do.

"Ummmmm..... bonjour? Le haircut?"

Fortunately, awkwardness doesn't remain too long when you're among your spiritual family, so Deborah ushered me in with a double cheek kiss and a hug. Since I had left my phone (and Pinterest pictures) in Sara's car, we made due with Google Images of my desired haircut.

I've never seen a facial expression change so fast.

"C'est un changement radical, no?"
"Oui!"

Deborah shampooed the heavy locks, and then....THE MOMENT OF TRUTH. She gathered it all up into a ponytail, scissors poised for the kill. With several skillfully snips, my head snapped forward, suddenly free of all of the weight. WOW. I had forgotten the lightness of having nothing touching the nape of of my neck. It was, needless to say, my Sabrina moment.

6 year old Alyssa would have been very very proud indeed. 

For me, this epitomized my take on travelling: sometimes the things that will completely rattle you out of your comfort zone will be the most memorable. Within reason, stretching homemade boundaries will take you above and beyond where you ever expected to be or do. I've gone through several even shorter cuts since coming back to the States, and you know what? I regret nothing. Sure it's grown out now to a sizable curly bush atop my scalp, but I can say 100% that I have done it, loved it, and if so desired, would do it all over again. Because, why not?

Ok this was a really fun post to write, being that soooo many friends still ask why I cut Medusa in the first place. Thank you for being such a great audience to my funny little stories.  Stay tuned for the next post! Next stop Italy!!!

Love,

The Adventurous A.

Fin (Entree Days #4 & #5)

We have now reached the point where a whole year had transpired between our trip! I can hardly believe it; time has flown by! It's bittersweet, but genuinely fills me with excitement for any other adventurous adventures up ahead.

I'm sure you didn't come here to read my nostalgic scribblings, you're here for the blog! So here go the final two days of our Paris section of our Europe trip.

Sunday rolled around, and we got ready for our weekend meeting. That's honestly one of the beauties of being one of Jehovah's Witnesses; no matter where you go, you'll more than likely find a congregation and receive the same spiritual food you would at your home congregation. The Kingdom Hall we went to was not very far, fortunately, and we arrived with plenty of time to associate and then enjoy the program. Our French hosts were nice enough to help us out and translate comments so that way we could participate in the Watchtower study.

 

Post meeting, we wanted to grab a quick bite, so we began hunting for a local Chinese buffet. Alas, when we arrived it was closed!! Armelle's brother suggested McDonald's,  much to our American chagrin. With much persuasion, they told us that it tasted different from the U.S. counterpart. 

SO MUCH BETTER THAN BACK HOME

THEY WERE RIGHT.  (I will go into more detail in the upcoming Nom-Noms of Paris post)

We did not have truly solid plans for Sunday, but that flexibility allowed us to do a spontaneous picnic in front of  Les Invalides, a wartime collection of museums and monuments dating back to the late 1670s. We got a few friends together and spent a lovely time on the greens in very Parisian fashion.

Amongst all of this,  however, was a small hiccup. We had plans the following day to visit the French Bethel branch in Louviers but needed to figure out how to get our whole group to travel that almost 2 hour distance. We opted to send me Sunday night by train to another sister's house up north (technically closer to Bethel). Despite having lived in New York State most of my life, this was my first truly alone train ride. Needless to say, I was a bundle of excitement and nerves, but I made it safe and sound to my destination.

*crying on the inside*

Monday morning rolled around and we were on route to the lovely Bethel Branch. One fun fact: it's a goal of mine to visit every single Bethel Branch in the world. Going to this branch, along with the Italy Branch some time afterwards, would scratch off two of the (if I remember correctly) 90 that I still need to visit.

If you're familiar with any of the U.S. Branch facilities, you'll recall that all of them are quite large, sporting over 1000 Bethelites per facility easily. It was a very pleasant surprise to then be able to tour a more intimate complex with our wonderful guide Ben. We even were able to have lunch there!

Can't go to a Bethel and NOT take a picture with Caleb and Sophia

Another fun fact: Louvier has a whole display dedicated to the French Witnesses who suffered in concentration camps during WWII. I highly recommend visiting

After a nice hearty lunch that involved getting soaked by a shaken bottle of French sparkling lemonade, we wrapped up the tour and commenced riding back to the heart of Paris for our last dinner with friends.

HOWEVER.

I had my own plan that I needed to accomplish pre-dinner, that Sara was co-conspirator with me for. While the boys got ready for dinner,  I prepared for....A HAIRCUT. A DRASTIC haircut.

I will give the whole story in the following Blog Nugget before we start the Italy series. For now, enjoy this sneak peek from behind. 

Once the glorious deed was done, we went to what I'd describe as easily as the most fashionably Parisian couple's apartment. The wonderful pair presented us with a full French cheese board, followed by homemade ratatouille and very strong coffee. It was an encouraging wrap up to another phenomenal day.

Wow this was surprisingly less bitter than sweet to write. Now that we're at the year point, all of the great memories are flooding back. I thought that the nostalgia would sadden me but QUITE the opposite. Thank you all for following along with the first portion of this Parisian epic! Next stop, Italia!!! Until the next time,

Love,

The Adventurous A.

Oh My Cœur! Eiffel So Hard For You (Entree Day #3)

Quand je marche dans la rue

La rue vers le Sacré-Cœur
Je me souviens des promesses
Au nom de l'amour

Hello BlueBearies! Guess who is back on the blog!!

Today's blog post is dedicated to two of the most iconic, quintessential French masterpieces: the Eiffel Tower (of course) and the Sacré-Cœur Basilica.

It was a lifelong dream to see these beauties in person,  and on Saturday July 15th, 2017, this dream was finally realized.

This lovely warm morning, our troupe of friends ventured into yet another day of cultural appreciation. Sarah and I caught an early train to meet up with the boys at the Abbesses station, a central spot to reconvene. This 115 year old station is located right by Montmartre, which was our first stop of the day. Once the guys showed up, we took a stroll down a long shoppers avenue, on the hunt for new shoes for JJ. We caught up with another friend named Lucinda before heading to Montmartre.

Montmartre is a dream centre for all different sorts of travellers. If you enjoy hiking, you can take the approximately 300 steps up to the Basilica, sharing stairs with frolicking children and sweaty sauntering couples. Feeling tired? Take the Montmartre Funicular, which will take a convenient minute and a half to travel up the hill, giving your tired toes a break. In the mood to shop? Join the tourists and locals alike on the main streets, basking in the boisterous crowds and constant lyrical surroundings.  The walls are decorated with tastefully creative graffiti, reflecting the very obvious joie de vivre of both visitor and resident alike.

Sacré Cœur is, for lack of a better word, pristine. A glistening white gem atop Montmartre, it attracts the masses in search of that complete panoramic shot of the cityscape. There's a particular solemnity that accompanies a view like that; there's a feeling of being with many but feeling alone, absorbed in the historically rich past and present of Paris. 

After hiking up the hill, we went back to the main street, where suddenly a dulcet aroma invaded my senses and my chocoholic heart rejoiced. There before us was Maison GEORGE LARNICOL, Chocolate Artisan. To call it a mere chocolate shoppe would be like calling the Vitruvian Man a simple sketch.  The intoxicating scent drew us in immediately, whilst feasting our eyes on incredible sculptures made of PURE CHOCOLATE.

Venus De Milo? DONE. A replica of Notre Dame? DONE. THERE'S A CHOCOLATE EIFFEL TOWER!!! I was obviously too eager to spend (as in time and money), but alas I left the shoppe empty-handed save for picture evidence of the sweet works of art.

After perusing the various stores and having gotten lunch (which slips my mind currently, I'll try to remember later), we hopped on a bus towards the Eiffel Tower. Now I know what you're probably thinking: "isn't this TERRIBLY touristy of you, Alyssa? Every Tom, Dick and Harry wants to go to the Eiffel Tower; so typical!"

WELL.

The Tower, or rather the idea of visiting it, was and is rather dear to me due to someone very close to me: my father. It has been Dad's dream to see it in person for as long as I can remember. Having been in a French congregation as a small child and having a francophile as a father imprinted this fondness for the architectural giant from an early age.

Dad, if you're reading this, I'll tell you here what I haven't since I returned from this trip almost a year ago: I cried when I saw it. It was just as beautiful as you always imagined, as impressive in stature as in atmosphere. Waiting almost 2 hours in line was very well worth it.

A word to the adventurous: I highly recommend getting the Combine ticket if you're going up the tower. It allows you to walk the first two levels and then take the elevator up the rest of the way. Only 4 of us ended up doing the climb ultimately (our trio along with Brian, the tour guide extraordinaire who unexpectedly joined us in the waiting line), while the other sisters prepped in advance for an evening picnic on the tower's grounds.

I could wax poetic about the view once you're on the very top, but I think the pictures will tell the story much better.

As we squeezed back into the elevator to descend, an ominous sound of crackling and awakening machinery shook the building. Peeking out the window provided the answer: they were turning on the lights that glitter the Parisian sky nightly 5 minutes every evening hour. Our quartet joined the rest of the group, where they'd set a blanket with a perfect French picnic: cold cuts, cheese, bread, grapes and wine. If I could select the most Woody Allen moment, it would be watching the light show, the area abuzz with emotion and awe. Thus closed a spectacular day, my imagination and expectations beyond surpassed.

This has been a picture heavy blog post, but I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless! It had been MONTHS since I'd last even attempted writing; I suppose that the reality that this trip was almost a year ago is really hitting me now. Once the Paris chapter is finished, I'll begin on chronicling our Italy adventures. Stay tuned for the next post, lovely blog readers!!

Love,

The Adventurous A.