Where I was last week

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The thrill of renting a car in a foreign country is like getting a pony at age 6. You're convinced you're getting underwear, but you get an upgrade to a 4-door for free. Mom and dad seem hellbent on giving you coal, but then the AVIS guy in Paris writes the gas charge off your car and give it to you for less than you expected. You think "hmm, won't driving in France be hard?" and then you end up delegating that to your best friend, who is a great driver and drinks coffee like Juan Valdez.

I often find myself in strange situations, like being 6 inches from then-Senator Barack Obama in Milwaukee without reliable photographer credentials. Eating bagettes and cheese while driving on French highways, squatting illegally in a Parisian flat, and smoking a cigar while walking down the Champs-elysees definitely rates up there with my top 10 unbelievable situations.

But beyond the visceral travel experiences, my two closest friends and I went through a profound transformation during this trip. It quickly gained "best trip of our life" status, and for more reasons than just experiential. We were getting a tour of humanity, of the good Russian Orthodox parish in Lyon and the bad side of French secularism, the unconditionally loving French widow who took us in as her own sons and the Lonely-Planet hating host we had in Blois, the believers and friends we found in Aix-en-Provence and the French anarchists we stayed with in Paris.

This week I'll post photos on what exactly transpired over the last week, but it's a bit too difficult to explain in one post. I'll have to take it one day at a time. One thing is for sure, I'll never look at the world the same way as before France in 2009.