Before our trip to Paris, my uncle gave me a warning.

Actually… he gave me many warnings.

He kept sending me videos of pickpockets and scammers caught on camera, making sure to point out that a suspicious number of them were carried out by beautiful women. His conclusion was simple and firm:

“Never trust a pretty girl in Paris.”

My first thought was, Oh, like a strip club.
Beautiful women trying to hustle you for every dollar you own.

Then I thought, Alright uncle, you’re probably just Googling “pretty girls in Paris” and calling it research.
But still, when you’re traveling somewhere new, a little caution never hurts. So I promised him I’d be careful.

Which makes what happened next… unfortunate.

I met this girl online who just so happened to:

We’d been talking on and off for a few months. Not super close, but familiar. When I told her I’d be in Paris, we decided to meet up. I even brought her a souvenir t-shirt from Los Angeles as a greeting gift.

This wasn’t my first time meeting an online friend, but it was my first time meeting one from another country. Nerve-wracking doesn’t quite cover it.

When we arrived in Paris, my family and I took a bus to our hotel. Along the way, the driver casually mentioned that our hotel was in a pretty rough area near Gare de Nord.

Cool. Love that for us.

Once we settled in, my aunt’s friend, who was traveling with us, had a cousin living in Paris who came by with a home-cooked Filipino meal: adobo, longanisa, cassava cake, and macaroni salad. Absolute lifesaver after a long flight.

Everyone decided to rest for the day, but the sun was still out, and this felt like the perfect time to meet up with my friend. My mom and brother, still fully subscribed to my uncle’s warning, decided to come with me.

We walked around the station getting familiar with the area. Guards everywhere. Loiterers. People clearly on high alert. Definitely some shady characters. Then, right in front of us, a drug-sniffing dog pounced on a guy and the guards made an arrest.

Yep. The driver wasn’t exaggerating.

Honestly though, being from Los Angeles, the whole scene felt weirdly familiar. Like downtown LA with better bread.

Then my friend arrived.

She met my mom and brother, and immediately I felt relieved. She was even sweeter in person than online. We chatted for a bit, and it slowly dawned on me that the pretty girl I was warned about was probably the least of my worries that night.

My mom and brother headed back to the hotel, and my friend and I caught a train. She told me where we were going, but I didn’t really know.

I was blindly following a pretty girl in Paris.

Sorry, uncle.

By the time we got off the train it was dark. We walked for a bit, stopped at a convenience store, grabbed croissants and pain au chocolat, classic Parisian snacks. We walked, talked, and ate pastries like we were in a movie.

Then she stopped and looked at me.

“Are you ready?”

My mind immediately spiraled.
This is it. I’m about to get scammed. Uncle was right.

“Ready for what?” I asked.

We turned the corner.

There it was… big, bright, sparkling.

The Eiffel Tower.

I actually gasped. She laughed and said, “We’re still kind of far.”

As we got closer, the energy picked up. Crowds, street vendors, musicians, cameras flashing everywhere. She started taking pictures of me with the tower. I returned the favor. Then we took photos together.

She knew all the best angles. All the best spots.

Walking through the crowd, eating pastries, talking, taking pictures with a pretty girl under the Eiffel Tower. I finally understood why they call Paris the City of Romance. The mood was just right.

When midnight hit, the tower lit up in a dazzling light show like twinkling stars in the Paris night sky. I stood there in awe. We ended the night soon after.

Not a bad first night in Paris.

The next day, she met up with a lot more of my family. We met at Champs-Élysées (yes, the place near the McDonald’s where I experienced the tiny coffee cup). We took a river cruise, and she helped my family navigate the city, especially one of my older aunts.

She was thoughtful, patient, and incredibly kind.

That was the last time I saw her before we left for Rotterdam.

But we met once more at the end of the trip, my flight to LA was back in Paris. We met at the Louvre at night (the same night I took my family to see the Eiffel tower). We caught up and shared stories about everything we’d been up to.

I didn’t get scammed.
I didn’t get pickpocketed.
I didn’t lose a thing.

Instead, I gained a memory.

And she’ll always be the pretty girl I trusted in Paris.

Traveling to new places can be scary. So we move with caution, uncles send warnings, and fear settles in. Sometimes caution protects you.
Sometimes it keeps you from the very moments that make life meaningful. Travel teaches you discernment not fear.

Like life, travel requires balance:
Be aware, but don’t be closed.
Stay safe, but stay open.

Don’t let warnings turn into walls. Not every risk is a mistake.
Some become your favorite story.

Until next time,

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