During Juniors Abroad (3 weeks in Europe, led by 2 professors, for which we got credit), we spent a few days in Paris. Sadly, none on our trip were much in love with Paris. It was hot, it was humid, and the Parisians hated us. One day, fed up with it all, we deemed it "American Day in Paris." We went to a movie, partly because we knew it would be air conditioned, partly because it was an American movie (Murder by Numbers with Sandra Bullock). It was a cheesy movie, but it was in English, so we were happy. Apparently it didn't translate well - there was a point when we all laughed but no one else in the movie did. I guess the joke didn't make much sense in French!
Later that night we had dinner at Hard Rock cafe. I don't remember who all was there, but I know it was close to our entire group, nearly all 22 of us. We were all so tired of Paris, so ready to move on. It was our last night there and we had a great ol' time. How sad is it that my fondest memory of Paris is the night before we left when we spend every waking minute being as American as possible?
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