I was forced to travel to Paris. Out of the 400-some study abroad students at my university this semester, I was one of two that went through a loophole in the immigration system. Up until 2 days ago, nobody knew I was in England, except for the border control officer in Dublin that gave me a passport stamp...for Ireland that is.
So, I had to leave the UK completely just to come back. All in the name of obtaining a visa. I bought a cheap ticket to Paris, stayed with a good friend from home, and within 48 hours, ate an entire baguette (that was in one hour actually), had a surprise visit from an old friend, La Petite Danseuse de Quatorze Ans, or The Little Dancer, at the Musée d'Orsay, and got a group of giggling 15-year old boys (best guess?) to take a photograph with me.
Oh - I also took a way too up-close picture of a couple taking a selfie. Fun fact: I don't know them.
This mini-series, Non Stop, was my way out of a bogged-down mindset. I had too many thoughts flying around in my head while in Paris. My camera was the cure.