We set our sights on tackling the Louvre, and, thankfully, T’s presence allowed us to jump the lengthy queue, as per usual, as well as gain us free entry. We picked up a map (a vital tool in a museum that size) and set off. The Louvre is far and away my favourite museum we’ve been to thus far, and there’ve been some good ones. The setting was fantastic–gorgeous galleries with lofty, ornately decorated ceilings. housing equally pretty paintings.

It’s a profoundly daunting feeling, setting off for a trip to Europe, not only because I know I’ve spent the last month or two organizing it, but also because it’s Europe, so I’ve been planning it, in essence, for most of my life. I’m normally a person who will freely profess to taking a ‘low expectation approach’ to life–traveling may be the one thing I set my bar fairly high for.

And so it begins..I left for the airport at the ungoldly hour of 3:30 in the morning with an odd mixture of trepidation, elation and nausea. A couple of Advil remedied the latter. I’ve never travelled alone before, at least not internationally, so the logistics of getting through the necessary check-points with the right forms filled out and without looking like a maniacal terrorist (perhaps a challenge for anyone at 4am) were a little daunting.