Friday, May 21st, 2010:

07:00 AM. Paris, France.

I suppose there's no time like the present to begin this, though I'm not exactly sure how. After an ever-glorious three-thousand, six-hundred, and thirty some miles, I've come from New York City's John F. Kennedy airport, en route to Bangalore, India, and it's early. Much too early

As we begin our descent, and again as I make my way to my connecting gate, I heard the siren's call of Europe out of every glass window, beckoning me to stay. I was seeing nothing psectacular; green grass, and traditional buildings off in a very hazy distane, but the mere knowledge of Europe's presence is easily attainable. I shall have to return soon. Dream big, no?

I sit now at my gate, joined by a few other people, looking far more comfortable with our final destination than I am rapidly becoming. I think it's safe to say that I've convinced myself that the purpose of this trip is to get out on my own, make a change, discover new things, and hopefully learn some things about myself. So far, the evidence points to a good start. After all, I'm exhausted, nervous, have little more than this journal, a camera, and my passport, and I'm completely alone. Maybe I'll get lucky and meet a beautiful French girl on her way to India...?

~A thirty minute train ride from a metal tower that seems so far...,

- Au Bientot