When I was 19 years old, I landed in Paris—nervous, excited, and thousands of miles from everyone I knew. It was my first time traveling abroad. A few days in, I found myself alone on a park bench when I felt something shift inside me:

“Sitting there, alone in a foreign country, far from my job and everyone I know, a feeling came over me. It was like remembering something I’d never known before or had always been waiting for, but I didn’t know what. Maybe it was something I’d forgotten or something I’ve been missing all my life. All I can say is that I felt, at the same time, joy and sadness. But not too much sadness, because I felt alive. Yes, alive. That was the moment I fell in love with Paris. And I felt Paris fall in love with me.” ~ Carol (from the film: Paris, Je T’aime)

Under the soft, rustling trees of the park, I felt exactly what Carol described—joy and just a touch of sadness, all at once. Each passing footstep and distant car horn reminded me I was far from home, but the smooth curve of the park’s metal bench beneath me grounded me in the present. At that moment, I wasn’t just a visitor admiring Paris. I was part of its heartbeat. That bench became the place where I first understood how a simple park could awaken a longing and a belonging in the same breath.

Often, when we discuss travel, we focus on ticking off museums, monuments, and must-do tours. While those experiences can be rewarding, there’s equal value in the simple act of wandering into a park.

In adulthood, parks remind us of a simpler time before our screens demanded every spare moment. Abroad, you’ll rarely spot anyone glued to a phone. Children chase each other across lawns while parents chat on blankets. Strangers share park benches in comfortable silence. Depending on the city, you might catch live music drifting over from a gazebo or a vendor selling local snacks just a few steps away.

In those moments, everyone in the park—families, solo travelers, locals—feels connected even as we each follow our own pace. Yet that sense of community sometimes highlights something bittersweet: the loved ones we’re missing back home. A sudden wave of homesickness can wash over you, reminding you how far you are from family and friends.

Living abroad can be lonely. We’ve lost count of the times a local child, hearing us speak English, tugged at a parent’s sleeve and asked to chat. Teaching them a new word or two in English—and seeing their face light up—breaks through the isolation. Suddenly, we’re part of their world, not just a visitor.

Still, any ache for home is always outweighed by joy. There’s freedom in living life on your own terms, and parks embody that freedom. Free from deadlines and the relentless pace of back-home life, you learn to savor the simple pleasure of sitting on a bench and watching life unfold around you.

My first taste of this came in Paris at the age of 19. Sure, I ticked off the Eiffel Tower and the Louvre, but the beauty of the parks truly captured me. Surrounded by trees and historic Parisian architecture, I understood exactly what Carol felt: that blend of joy and just a touch of sadness, all wrapped up in the thrill of being alive.

When family or friends join our journey, the bittersweet ache gives way to a different kind of thrill: shared discovery. Seeing their eyes light up as they taste freedom in a new place doubles the joy. Somehow, it makes us feel even more fulfilled. They catch the travel bug right alongside us. Suddenly, we’re not just creating memories for ourselves, but helping carve out space for adventure in their lives as well. 

The park remains a favorite destination, a sanctuary of both reflection and connection. Whether you’re sharing silent smiles with locals or reflecting about memories of home. Those moments of calm remind you just how alive a park can make you feel.

~ Albion