Three Countries, Three Weeks, Countless Memories

In September 1997, I spent three unforgettable weeks traveling through France, Spain, and Portugal with my mom, Marilyn, and my brother Steven. It was a journey of winding roads, crowded cathedrals, backseat naps, wine tastings and spontaneous laughter. This blog is my attempt to capture the texture of that trip: the food, the people, the chaos, and the unexpected beauty found along the way.

Paris, France: Arrival & Nostalgia

We landed in Paris on September 13th. Jet lagged but ready, we were met with delayed baggage and a sleepy brother—but somehow, it all worked out. We settled into our temporary home at the staff compound related to my brother’s work, where a fully equipped two-bedroom apartment cost just $60 for two weeks.  A bargain of a lifetime.

We wandered Jardin du Luxembourg, marveled at Neptune-like statues, and shared memories—like the revelation of how the baby duck that Mom hatched on her chest when the mother duck had abandoned the egg, died not from a fall as we children were told many years before, but was stepped on by our dad when he backed up while playing darts. Lunch at a Parisian café kicked off my beer glass collection (hello, Pelforth and Mütchen).

Notre Dame offered awe followed by delicious escargot. Île Saint-Louis delivered famed ice cream then finally sleepiness we could not longer postpone. The tunnel where Princess Diana's car crashed less than a month before loomed nearby, a somber contrast as we drifted toward rest.

More Paris: Catacombs & Can-Can

Sunday started slow but filled up fast. We picnicked in front of Notre Dame, wandered to the Stravinsky fountain, and explored the catacombs—a maze of bone-lined tunnels, eerie and unforgettable.

We ended the night at Moulin Rouge’s midnight show: feathers, jugglers, acrobats, and a topless Can-Can. Wild, ridiculous, and wonderful.

The Loire Valley & Bordeaux: Châteaux and Cellars

We packed up and headed out. Chateau Chambord’s double-helix staircase was a highlight, followed by da Vinci’s final residence at Le Clos Lucé in Amboise.

We tasted wine along the Loire, then made our way to Saint André de Cubzac, a town outside Bordeaux. The room was rustic—bathtub behind chairs and shared bathrooms—but the wine and stories made up for it.

Bordeaux brought more wine, a walking tour, and a bus nap. We tried for an African restaurant but it was closed then settled for another continent with Vietnamese food, and I collected more beer glasses along the way.

Spain: From Beaches to Tapas

San Sebastián was a dream: sun, sand, surf, and sculpted sand mermaids. We bar-hopped our way through Parte Vieja, savoring Txacoli (sparkling white wine), calamari, sardines, crab and octopus.

From there, we drove to Ribadavia, a ghost town of clay buildings. The beds were creaky, the wine was red, and the night was long.

Portugal: Tiles, Roosters, & Folk Dancing

Crossing into Portugal brought new energy. Viana do Castelo greeted us with tiled houses, clean streets, and a local flea market. We met travelers, drank wine from bowls, and watched folk dancing in the square.

We continued to Porto, got lost in Barcelos, and tasted tawny port straight from the source. A stop in Bragança introduced us to olive oil adorned with roosters and ancient castles turned into military museums.

Back to Spain: Hanging Houses & Human Castles

Cuenca stunned us with its cliffside casas colgadas and festival chaos—a family we met even got chased by a bull! Barcelona delivered art, parades, and Gaudí magic. Parc Güell, La Sagrada Família, and La Pedrera enchanted us.

While wandering through the Gothic Quarter, I stumbled upon a festival featuring a breathtaking castell—a human tower stacked five or six people high. I watched, spellbound, as each layer climbed upward with precision and courage. Even small children crawled up and were scooped up by people leaning down from a balcony.

Daily falafel snacks became our go-to quick bites, tucked into narrow streets between cathedral visits and art explorations. One night, we finally sat down for traditional paella, served piping hot and full of saffron and seafood.

We wrapped things up along the Costa Brava, took a touristy but fun boat ride, and marveled at Dalí’s surreal museum in Figueres.

Versailles, Farewells & Home

Versailles was grand but not my style. We returned the rental car (after 4700 km) and closed out Paris with mussels, metro rides, and a long walk to the Hard Rock Café.

Our final full day was for packing, portraits in Montmartre, and one last café dinner. We said our goodbyes with full hearts and tired feet.

On the flight home, I wrote postcards and tried to absorb it all. It felt like a dream before we even touched down.

Three countries. Three travelers. One unforgettable September that changed how I view travel.

Reflection

Traveling with my mom was a gift I didn’t take for granted. We shared wine, ice cream, laughter, and long drives through places I barely knew existed. I learned that joy can be found in late-night folk dancing or in simply watching the world go by from a café chair.

This trip shaped how I travel today—not to check boxes, but to collect moments. It taught me that the best stories don’t always make it into guidebook

Next stop? Anywhere