Pics Or It Didn't Happen

Last weekend, I went to Paris. (In other words, “Oh you know, I casually jetted off to Paris. I am sophisticated and cosmopolitan and my life is extremely interesting”). I actually had no expectations for the trip at all, as I had spent the week leading up to it furiously studying for midterms. I woke up at 4 am to leave for the airport on Friday not feeling excited at all, just tired. I think subconsciously, I was afraid of being disappointed by Paris. As a kid, I had read Madeline and dreamed of going to Paris. I didn’t want to let the difference between expectations and reality ruin my experience. However, I was not to worry, because Paris was incredible. The city was breathtaking, the weather was perfect, and the food was just as delicious as I had imagined. However, I could not take pictures the entire weekend. Without proof, did my trip even happen?

5:07 PM, Friday, October, 31, 2014. Sam and I had just met up with Suzy at the hostel. We had admired the balcony in our private room and had successfully connected to the wifi. I was on the bed trying to plug my charger in, when my phone fell of the bed. This was not a high bed, mind you, it was maybe a foot off the ground. Alas, this was one fall too many for my phone, and the screen decided to go completely black. Here in Europe, my phone doesn’t function as an actual phone because I have my Spanish flip phone to make calls, but it serves as my GPS, my ipod, my internet connection, and most important when traveling, my camera. I was very annoyed, and it put a damper on the whole trip. The man at the French iphone store was rather unhelpful.

View from the balcony of the hostel, the last picture my phone took before it broke.

Being without a camera made me think a lot about the act of traveling and what it means. Nowadays, so much of traveling is about taking pictures and sharing them online, subtly bragging about your trip. However, people have been taking travel pictures since cameras were invented. Before that, people used to sketch while traveling. Traveling is such a temporary act that it is important to have something permanent to remember the experience by. As I went through the weekend, I worried that I wouldn’t remember the trip without pictures. Pictures can’t capture the buttery goodness of a fresh baked croissant  or the sound of the bells of Notre Dame, but they can trigger these memories. I tried to be as present as possible, savoring the feel of the sun on my skin as I walked along the Seine or the warm crunch of my baguette, but now these moments seem distant, and over time these memories will continue to fade.

I wish I could say that this experience taught me to live in the moment, but overall, it just made me stressed out and sad. It made me question the value of traveling- why spend so much money on such fleeting moments? Is traveling about learning new things, or making new memories? Are travel pictures just bragging, or is there an inherent value to them? My time in Paris was far too short, and I am anxious to go back. Next time, I will be sure to have a camera.