I Wish I’d Been Blonde in Paris

I wish I’d been blonde in Paris.

When I look back at photos of myself in Paris, I cannot enjoy them. Why? Because I had a terrible hairstyle, and for reasons unknown to me now, I decided to dye my hair a hideous shade of red. Was it popular back then? Was I drunk? Did my stylist Kenny tell me it would look fabulous on me? I don’t know.

All I can say for sure is that the photos of me in Paris are unpleasant because I hate my hair. Me in from of the Eiffel Tower with hideous red hair. Me leaning against the Arc de Triomphe with unsightly red hair.

Back in 1994, I was working as a travel agent in NE Ohio. My husband and I made very little money. I became a travel agent because we wanted to travel, and we knew working in the industry was the only way to accomplish that goal.

One day at the AAA office, a fax (yes, fax!) came through saying the low, low price of $299, a travel agent and one companion could get flights from Washington D.C. to Paris, spend a week at a Euro Disney hotel and get tickets to the park.

We jumped on it. I got it approved as an official AAA Fam Trip, )travel lingo for Familiarization Trip where agents learn about a new destination to sell to clients.)

We drove from Cleveland, Ohio, to Washington, D.C., to catch our Air France Flight. We got on board, and they served champagne and Duck a l’orange. In coach! It was an elegant experience compared to our U.S. flight experience. No peanuts in sight.

When we arrived at Charles de Gaulle and got into the city, I could not believe I was there. Something I’d been dreaming of since my childhood vacations to Canada, which prompted me to take French in high school and college.

We checked into the Disney hotel and were happily surprised to discover they spoke English. There were people from all over the world. There were lines marked with agents saying “French/English,” French/German,” or French/Espagnol,” etc., so you could get into a line with someone who spoke your language. I was mesmerized.

We bought a Carte Orange, the public transportation pass at the time. We could hop on any train and ride from the Disney complex in Marne la Vallee into Paris proper.

We had very little money with us. We packed Ritz crackers and peanut butter to eat in case we ran out of money. We ate a lot of baguettes and brie from little markets.

We bought a museum pass and went to the Louvre for two days and still didn’t see everything. We went to the Arc de Triumph, Notre Dame, and to the Musee d’Orsay. We went to the Point Zero marker in Paris and the Shakespeare and Company bookstore.

We drank wine at the Tavern Henri IV wine bar along the banks of the Seine. We went to the Marche aux fliers and saw and smelled every bloom imaginable. We stumbled onto the Marche aux Oiseaux (Bird market), although I see it will be closing permanently at the end of this month.

We got into a massive fight in the middle of the Eiffel Tower, which is one now of our very best stories to tell at parties. “Here we are in the city of lights and love, on the most romantic spot on the planet, screaming at each other like the ugly Americans.” We can level our audience every time at the absurdity of this image.

We were also gleefully riding the Carousel Parc de la Villette. We accidentally got caught in a riot that involved us running for our lives from police with billy clubs and literally jumping onto the last train out of Paris before they closed down the city!

This story is another big hit at parties. One of us initially thought it was a carnival. One of us knew we needed to RUN. If you invite us over for a party, you can only find out which one was which.

As I flip through photos of this trip and think about the incredible things we got to do and see, I just want to go back and do it again.

But this time with money, maturity, platinum blonde hair, and elegant sunglasses.