Travel is Meant to be Shared
I hate it when friends go to Paris.
Well, not for them. I’m all for it, and delight in the fact that they get to experience a great food city.
I hate it for me, since I can’t go along.
Even worse is when they send tantalizing photos back with captions like, “Don’t you wish you could lick the pan?”
Yeah, that’s the kind of friends I have.
Oh, I realize that turnabout is fair play. I have the sort of job that often sends me to great food cities, and I delight in posting photos and commentary across all of my social media sites (Facebook, Twitter, Posterous, Pinterous, Foursquare … you get the picture).
And I know those photos make people drool, and make them wish they were along. I wish they were, too, because great food experiences are made to be shared, particularly with those friends who share your passion for food.
So, to a certain person who just returned from Paris: Thanks for the photos. They remind me of my first visit to a Paris creperie, where I ordered the daily special in spite of not knowing a thing that might come in it—and how even the memories of that first bite cause me to swoon. They remind me of my visit to an apple orchard and the fresh-pressed cider they handed me. They remind me of Parisian coffee at the top of the Eiffel Tower and at a small little sidewalk cafe. Most of all, they remind me it’s time for me to start saving for a trip.
I’m truly glad you had a great time. I’m glad you got to eat amazing pastries and see renowned sites. I’m happy for you.
But next time, take me. Or leave your camera behind.
(Photo by Joy Robertson. Who did, at least, bring me chocolate.)