I felt giddy walking along the Seine in Paris during sunset watching people drinking wine and eating charcuterie with their feet dangling over the stone wall lining the banks of the river. As I explained in my last post, I find magic in the smallest things.

My eyes lit up at the first glimpse of the Eiffel Tower peeking over the trees and my stomach became so full of butterflies when it came into full view that it forced a small laugh of amazement. I made it there just in time to see the tower light up which only elevated its remarkable beauty. 

By this time, I had forgotten all about the travel nightmare from London hours earlier. I have a Eurail pass, which is billed as an unlimited train ticket that allows you to ride freely throughout Europe. Here’s the thing: You also have to book seat reservations for the busiest routes at the height of the summer tourist season. I sort of thought the seat reservations were optional. In some cases, they are optional. In this case, I was not so lucky. I showed up to St. Pancras International station and quickly found out all of the Eurail spots were filled – FOR THREE DAYS! The only ticket left on that day was a $250 first-class seat on a train that didn’t leave for three hours. Throw the budget out the window! I just paid hundreds of dollars for the Eurail pass and now I’m shelling out more money for a mistake that could have been prevented with a simple $30 reservation. What a mess! Lesson learned: make those seat reservations. (I’ve spoken to dozens of backpackers who’ve all been burned at least once — so be warned if you use Eurail for future travels!)

The beer in the Eurostar business lounge was fittingly named “Nomad.” That’s me, just wandering around Europe! A sweet woman replenishing the cooler said, “take whatever you want!” I grabbed three beers. I would have grabbed more having just paid $250 for a ticket but my bags were bursting at the seems. Onward! 

Every building in Paris is picture-worthy. As I toured the landmarks – Notre Dame, Louvre Museum, Arc de triomphe, Panthéon – I found myself also taking photos of random apartment buildings, hotels, coffee shops and corner stores. Simply stunning architecture!

The security guard didn’t speak English but he pointed to the elevator. “56. Restaurant. 56.” It was a fast ride to the 56th floor and I was now overlooking Paris from the top of the Montparnasse Tower. My mouth was slightly agape as the waitress led me along a panoramic window to a seat at the back of the restaurant with an incredible view.

My table was maybe four inches from the table next to me. “Bon appétit,” a man said just as I took my first bite of salmon. I gave him a soft smile with some side-eye as I pulled my fork out of my mouth. “Bon appétit,” I eventually replied. He probably felt bad that I was eating alone. The man’s name was Camille, a Syrian transplant living and working in Paris, who was joined by his girlfriend, Tracy, visiting town from Damascus – the capital of Syria. Camille moved to Paris for a higher-paying job and met Tracy during one of his visits back home. The couple is now dating long distance. 

They were just kids when the Syrian civil war started in 2011 and their lives have been dramatically impacted by the conflict, violence, bloodshed, sanctions and the economic fallout that continues today. Tracy previously worked for a U.S.-based accounting firm that shuttered because of American sanctions that forced companies to cut new investments in the country. For years, the U.S. has imposed sanctions to put pressure on Syrian’s authoritarian regime to allow for a democratic transition. For Camille and Tracy, who grew up hearing the sounds of artillery at home and at school, they can only hope for less turbulent times and more peace.

Right now, living in Damascus is a challenge and the conditions are far worse elsewhere in Syria where the heaviest fighting has occurred. The electricity is so unreliable that Tracy’s home typically gets power for two out of every six hours. Her iPhone can’t access many apps, there is intense Internet censorship, people are unemployed and it’s a struggle getting travel visas to different countries. “Imagine living in a country where you don’t seem to exist.” Camille chimed in – patriotically defensive: “You exist. We exist. That’s our country. Our families are there.” 

Over the last 12 years, the Syrian conflict has created a refugee and displacement crisis with 5.5 million people (about 25% of the country’s population) fleeing Syria and nearly 7 million people internally displaced. For Camille, moving home to be with his family is a dream but not a reality given the economic conditions. For Tracy, even though she feels relatively safe living in Damascus, moving out of Syria is a chance at more opportunity. “I want to go,” she said. The two of them represent millions of innocent people impacted by the unrest in their homeland, including millions of young children reliant on humanitarian support. They simply hope to see their country in a better light one day. 

I ordered an espresso. They ordered dessert. Our eye contact was only broken by bites of food and quick glances at the sweeping views of the city. There we sat, looking out at one of the most beautiful landmarks in the world while discussing the ugly reality of war. That juxtaposition was enough to send me down a daylong rabbit hole examining the immense suffering in this big and beautiful world.

If you’re anything like me you probably wish there was a magic button to instantly produce every resource needed to help people live prosperous, productive, safe, fulfilling and dignified lives. It’s just not possible. There is no magic button. On our streets, in our neighborhoods, around our cities, throughout our states, across our nation, all around our world, there are people suffering in varying degrees. We all know this — but I think too often we collectively allow our own lives to distract us from tackling problems in our backyards. It’s true: we get busy, we have families, we have bills to pay and many other responsibilities. I’m not suggesting people who are prospering or privileged should feel guilty for their situation; however, I think it’s worth exploring — genuinely exploring — how much suffering you are personally willing and able to shoulder to improve other people’s lives. What can you take on? Only you know what you can do with your time and your resources. But I think a lot of people can do more — and I personally find myself in this category. Having spent the last decade covering news in economically disadvantaged communities, I understand the importance of doing what I can when I can. However, I never quite feel like my actions mirror my strong social conscious. “Finding time” has been my lousy excuse. Maybe you can relate. I’ve always been inspired by change-makers — those people who give even a little bit to help others — and I hope to inspire even more people to take on a personal obligation to others, even strangers. I want people to treat kindness like a sport — where we practice everyday and winning the game is knowing you had a positive impact on someone’s life. If we truly live in a beautiful world — and I think we do — then we must commit beautiful acts of kindness to lift people up. And guess what? Those acts of kindness are contagious.

My table had an obstructed view but Camille and Tracy let me sit at their table — as if it were my own — so I could get a picture with the view. I wished them well, gave them both hugs and told Tracy I hoped she would be able to move to Paris very soon. “I hope so. I hope so,” she said. 

A few weeks prior to my trip I was scrolling on Instagram and realized one of my favorite singers, Quinn XCII, would be touring in Europe and his Paris concert lined up perfectly with my visit. I just saw him in concert in Philadelphia with my sister in May, but when in Paris – right? I must go! I was at the laundromat just finishing a load of laundry when I saw a message posted to a group chat of other backpackers in Paris. It was an American tourist asking if anyone was going to the Quinn XCII concert. Three of us made plans to meet for a beer across from the venue. Grace from New York was a super fan like me. Rene from Helsinki had met a drummer for the opening act – DWLLRS – in his hostel and just wanted a fun night out!

We arrived to La Maroquinerie to find a small sign reading “CONCERT” on the door that looked like it could have been the entrance to a high school gymnasium. Inside, there were maybe 75 people standing in the open, intimate venue that only grew to about 150 people by the time Quinn XCII took the stage. There must have been a few thousand people at the concert in Philly. Now, we’re basically getting a personal show!

We weaseled our way to the front row after the first number. Grace and I knew every song. “I can’t believe how close we are,” we said to each other repeatedly. As we walked out of the venue smiling, I asked a guy holding a camera if he could take a picture of our new friend group. Turns out, it was Quinn XCII’s photographer! He snapped a few pictures of us and asked about our travels. I told him I was traveling to Antwerp, Belgium the next day – the same city where Quinn XCII was playing his second European concert. The photographer said he would set aside a free ticket for me. I’m a total groupie!

I had an early bus from Paris to Antwerp the next morning but the three of us decided to bar hop around Paris for a few hours. I forgot to set an alarm and woke up at 9 a.m. I missed my bus! I had so much fun the night before I couldn’t possibly be mad. Thankfully, I was able to quickly rebook and grab a seat on the next bus. I had a five-hour ride and a concert to get to by 9 p.m. in Belgium. This groupie wasn’t going to miss the show. 

Song Choice: Georgia Peach/Quin XCII 

I have to pick a Quinn XCII song! In one of his happier and more upbeat songs, indie-pop artist Quinn XCII writes a love letter to his wife. I picked this song as a reminder that life is too precious and too short not to write love letters and to tell your people how you feel — during the highs and the lows! Quinn’s songs tackle self-discovery, relationships and his personal struggle with anxiety. In the song “The Lows,” he reminds us: “I’m the highest when I let everything go.”