U.S. First Lady Michelle Obama and adorable 9-year-old Sasha meet Spanish King Juan Carlos on the island of Mallorca, wrapping up their visit to southern Spain.

Young Sasha's got the European double-kiss routine down pat as she greets Spain's Queen Sofia.

Is Michelle Obama a classy First Lady or WHAT? Love the one-shouldered look.

I don’t know about you, but it’s absolutely thrilled me to see First Lady Michelle Obama taking 9-year-old Sasha on a mom-and-daughter holiday–and to SPAIN, no less! I don’t have kids, nieces or nephews, but if I did, I’d be booking us on some overseas trip as soon as they were old enough to appreciate it. And I’d be sitting them down right now  to watch video of adorable Sasha meeting the king and queen of Spain.  How it does my heart proud to see this darling young brown-skinned girl looking confident alongside her mom, realizing she’s a princess in her OWN right. Nothing like self-assurance, even when it comes in the package of a preciously dressed pre-teen.

I was super-proud and psyched last year when the President and Michelle took Sasha and Malia with them to Paris and London. I wrote then about how important it is for youngsters—and especially African-American ones, who don’t always see themselves portrayed positively in the American media—to travel abroad and experience life through a different lens. Just think of all the young black kids out there who see Sasha strolling the streets of Spain, visiting its treasures, meeting its royalty, witnessing the crowds of Spaniards eagerly seeking a glimpse of her and her glamorous First Lady mom. SURELY that’s got to have an effect on their individual and collective psyches, even if they don’t realize it now.  

I’ve loved reading about the Obama ladies’ trip since they landed in Marbella, on Spain’s sun-drenched Costa del Sol, earlier this week. They toured an historic cathedral in the southern Spanish city of Granada; took in a flamenco performance in the region where this legendary dance was born; toured the Moor-built Alhambra at night. The traveling half of the First Family and their friends stayed at Marbella’s Hotel Villa Padierna, a five-star Ritz-Carlton resort on the Mediterranean Sea. And while this was hardly budget travel, folks tend to forget that the Obamas are wealthy folks, thanks largely to royalties President Barack has generated from his best-selling books.

I’m not even going to start on the haters screaming that the Obamas’ trip abroad is costing U.S. taxpayers untold dollars, and that Michelle is somehow a “modern-day Marie Antoinette” for daring to travel abroad on a luxury vacation while America’s in a recession. As has been made clear, the Obama ladies and friends paid for their own stay in Spain, although granted, the Secret Service had to travel with them and they flew aboard Air Force Two. As far as I’m concerned, the complainers SHOULD be glad we’ve got a globally minded First Family that actually wants to see and positively engage with the world. 

And for THAT, all of us Americans ought to be proud.

Talk about taking a guide book to another level. Chicago author Kiratiana Freelon hooks up travelers who want to explore all facets of "Black Paris" during visits to the City of Light.

As you UrbanTravelGirl readers know, Paris is my favorite place on the planet. Someone this week asked me why I love it so, and I didn’t have to think long before responding, “The diversity.” Sure, Paris is THE quintessential French city, but a huge part of what makes it so special for me, an African-American woman, is the presence of black folks from throughout the Diaspora. You’ll meet black folks from African former French colonies including Togo, Senegal, Mali, and Côte d’Ivoire. From French Caribbean “overseas regions” such as Martinique and Guadeloupe. And black American expatriates from all over the States.

And whereas most “mainstream” travel guidebooks gloss over their presence (if they mention them at all), Chicago author Kiratiana Freelon jumps all over it in her new book, Kiratiana’s Travel Guide to Black Paris: Get Lost and Get Found (Eunique Press, $19.95). An African-American Harvard grad who’s visited more than 25 countries in her young life and spent time living in Paris, she uncovers GREAT finds all over Paris (and beyond, as well).

Check out the post I wrote for “TCW Travel Connection” (http://bit.ly/a2×0hY) on Freelon’s fabulous new book. Even diehard Paris lovers will discover LOADS they didn’t know and will eagerly be planning their next trip to the City of Light. Be sure to pick it up!

Ciao,

I hope to spark conversation among African-American women who love (or WANT) to travel abroad, who are never happier than when we’re in new and challenging foreign environments. I want to hear your comments about my trips – and I want to hear about yours. Wondering whether it’s cool to travel solo to Paris, or how you’d be received as a black woman in Rome?  Put it out here and we UrbanTravelGirls will jump in and give you the scoop. Looking for some fab, locals-only restaurants and boutiques in Florence, Barcelona or Buenos Aires? I’ll dish about it and hope other chicas visiting here will also share.

So what are you waiting for? Get out there, hit the road, discover your own global bliss — and let’s chat about it!

For any of us women—especially those who still consider themselves young or young-at-heart and long to experience the thrills and pleasures that travel and foreign cultures provide—the recently released Sony Pictures Classics film “An Education” is a must-see. (Here in the United States, it’s in relatively limited release, which is a shame because it’s truly one of the smartest, most thoughtful films to hit the big screen in ages.)

I recently saw it with one of my best girlfriends from university, someone who knew me before I became completely obsessed with all things international. But because my friend knows me so well, she knew I’d be one of the few people who would be clamoring to see it with her. (Another very good girlfriend, one whom I’ve traveled abroad with and spent countless hours sharing my dreams of seeing the world, demanded I call her as soon as I saw them film so we could dissect its deeper meaning in each of our lives.)

Here’s the gist: Set in suburban London in 1961, “An Education” is told from the perspective of Jenny (played by the luminous British actress Carey Mulligan), a bright and inquisitive 16-year-old in a private high school. Although she’s being pushed toward an Oxford education by her strict but well-meaning middle-class parents, she’s drawn to all things French. She loves the language, tossing off phrases en français, lounging in her bedroom while listening to sophisticated French chanteuse Juliette Gréco. And she longs to visit Paris in this drab and dreary post-World War II London era. Enter the mysterious and dashing David (played to perfection by actor Peter Saarsgard), a man in his mid-30s (!!) who offers her and her cello a ride home during a pounding rainstorm.

You can guess where this travels from here: David introduces her to a sophisticated world filled with hazy smoke from French Galoise cigarettes, his glamorous but shady friends, late-night supper clubs, and art auctions. Eventually, he get her parents’ permission to take her away for a weekend in Paris. Who of us—regardless of our age—wouldn’t dream of playing dress-up and strolling along the Seine River arm-in-arm with a handsome homme who wants to show us the finer cultural things in life? But it wouldn’t be a film if David didn’t turn out to have fatal flaws. I won’t give them or the ending away, but suffice it to say despite the fact he offers entrée into a glamorous second life, he’s hardly what he seems.

“An Education” resonates with me on so many levels. Although I’m now WAY older than Jenny was in the film, I still have that sense of wanderlust about the world. And although I’ve literally been around the world, there’s still so much I want to experience and to learn about foreign cultures and places and languages and music. Like Jenny, I’m passionate about everything French and try to incorporate as much of it into my daily and often stifling Midwestern life as much as possible. And although I’m slow to admit it, I’m often naïve when it comes to the underlying truth about men, especially when they seem to appear out of nowhere, almost as if they walked off a movie set, all mysterious and fascinating (and speak in some sexy foreign accent—you name which one).

I’m feeling way too introspective these days, having survived recent intense encounters with a couple of European men. While both were charismatic and worldly and well-traveled and smart, neither turned out to be what I first thought. That doesn’t necessarily make them bad people. But often we project onto others—friends, parents, children, lovers—what we crave and need them to be at that point in our lives. I’m reminded of the Maya Angelou quote my sister used to share: “When people show you who they are, believe them.” That would have been great advice for Jenny in “An Education”—and Lord knows I should have kept that in mind before getting involved with either of my two.

But part of learning—yes, of an education—is understanding when we’ve allowed ourselves to get caught up in the fantasy of what COULD be, not what is. And part of it is having the good sense and self-awareness to move on, even when our smarter selves wonder how we ended up in such ridiculous situations in the first place. Rather than beat ourselves up, we should acknowledge and yes, even APPRECIATE that even painful lessons can ultimately be good for us—IF we actually learn from them.

If you’re not intrigued yet, check out the film review written by my always-thoughtful former Chicago Sun-Times colleague, Pulitzer Prize-winning film critic Roger Ebert. What spoke to me were these lines from his October review: “So young women, let this movie offer useful advice. When a man seems too good to be true, he probably isn’t—good, or true. We all make mistakes when we’re growing up. Sometimes we learn from them. If we’re lucky, we can even learn during them. And you must certainly see Paris….”

How many of you UrbanTravelGirls does THIS resonate with? Even as I enter my fourth decade, I see I’ve still got PLENTY of learning to do, even as I pack my passport and venture off into places unknown.

But surprisingly, you can ALSO take a trip around much of the world by visiting Vegas. YES, Las Vegas. Even this most American of cities offers something for the global traveler in you.

I remember some years ago my sister—a brilliant young entrepreneur who has traveled to Europe several times, but never quite as eagerly as me—once made this remark (and I’m paraphrasing here): Why bother getting a passport and traveling overseas when you can visit Egypt, Italy, and France just by going to Las Vegas?

Of course, I was HORRIFIED, and hope she said it in jest. But the truth is, if money is tight and you can’t go abroad, Las Vegas offers some pretty cool glimpses into foreign cultures, if only by way of some of its star hotels and their restaurants and attractions.

So go with me here. Say you want to experience a bit of the magic found in my favorite city in the world, Paris. The Paris Las Vegas Hotel really is a gem, even for someone like me who’s visited the real thing countless times and loves the city as much as life itself. Not only is there an amazingly life-like replica of the Eiffel Tower facing “The Strip”—half the size of the original one in Paris—but you can soar 460 feet to the top via elevator, giving you an incredible view of the Vegas skyline.  A few years ago, I remember going with my mom to the 11^th floor Eiffel Tower Restaurant, not for a meal but for an amazing flute of champagne. I hadn’t taken a flight, but the elegant, classy feel made me forget I was in the States and transported me for a few minutes to La France.

And then there’s bella Italia, experienced by way of two truly neat hotels, The Bellagio and The Venetian Las Vegas. I stayed with my family at the Bellagio a few years ago, and not only were the rooms plush and comfy, but many of its restaurants and cafes—not to mention its gelateria—give hotel guests and visitors alike a literal taste of Italian cuisine. And while I haven’t stayed at The Venetian, I must admit I’m a sucker for its Venice replicas. I’ve been to the REAL Venice, Italy, three times—on journalist press trips and to visit a friend who lives in the city—and I must say, this hotel’s reproduction of the city’s Grand Canal and its gondola rides, complete with black-and-white-striped shirt-wearing gondoliers, trip me out every time I see them. And with 19 restaurants on the property—including the very authentic Canaletto, where I insisted my family dine with me on the faux “outdoor” terrazza—you really can pretend you’re somewhere in Italy.

Then there’s the Luxor Las Vegas, with its pyramid-shaped hotel complex and a large, looming Sphinx outside. Of course, you’re not in Egypt—and sadly, you won’t find any cuisine from this amazing country inside the hotel. But a visit to the luxurious Luxor spa some years ago is as close as this UrbanTravelGirl has gotten so far. Travel Intelligence provide a good range of luxury spa hotels for anyone wanting to give luxury spas a try. Still, it inspires me to get to the real Nile River in Africa sometime soon.

And isn’t that the point of any trip, to encourage you to take another?

This is a TravelingMom dedicated post.

For me, there's truly NO PLACE like Paris. Its street life and energy is infectious -- and I got to travel there via the "big screen" earlier this week by catching "Paris" at a Chicago cinema.

I love this statue, which stands majestically in Place de la République, one of the most famous and busiest squares in Paris. This 19th century statue stands as a monument to the history of the French Republic.

I’m not usually a big moviegoer, but I am a sucker for a good foreign-language film. Yes, I’m a bit of a snob – I feel a bit smarter sitting and watching some artsy independent film rather than, say, “The Transformers” (not that there’s anything wrong with that if you liked it!). But since I don’t get overseas nearly as often as I’d like, I figure forking over $10 or $11 for a two-hour onscreen journey into another culture is a fair price to pay.

Knowing how passionate I am about overseas travel, friends and colleagues constantly quiz me: “So where’s your next foreign trip? I know you’re on your way somewhere.” For the first time in a long time, I’m staying put—mostly because I’m out of vacation time and am forcing myself to stick to a serious budget (for reasons I will share in this blog before too long, I hope). But that doesn’t mean I’m willing to give up globetrotting. Instead, I’m doing it right here in Chicago—no passport, visas or trips to O’Hare International Airport required—and am traveling by way of the big screen. 

Just this week, I checked out “Paris,” a lovely, wonderfully written film starring Juliette Binoche that was shot—of course—in Paris, my absolute FAVORITE city in the entire world and the one place I’d happily live if told I could never go anywhere else for the rest of my life.

For me, this was two hours of latte-sipping bliss, watching the film’s characters stroll the city’s picturesque streets; hang out in its cafés, stand in its apartments and gaze down at the beautifully laid out streets below. The film showed the interconnectedness of a wide range of Parisians (and Africans across the sea), making clear that sometimes “real life” is more dramatic than anything we can imagine. Of course, the film made me long desperately for Paris, to buy some extra American Airlines frequent-flyer miles to top off my account so I can fly there later this year.

But in lieu of dashing off to O’Hare to catch a flight after the film, I treated myself—as I often do when I go to see a French-themed film—to an early dinner at La Creperie, a cozy bistro-like hideaway just across the street from the Landmark Century Centre Cinema. A favorite spot of mine that’s been owned for nearly 40 years by a French-American couple, it gives me a way to extend my would-be French experience for another hour or two, complete with a great glass of vin blanc and an incredible savory crepe of chicken, goat cheese and tomatoes.

No matter where you live, you can travel the globe without going far from home. If you don’t live in a big metropolis with great artsy movie houses like the previously mentioned Landmark Century Centre Cinema or Facets Multimedia on Chicago’s North Side, or the Gene Siskel Film Center in downtown Chicago, you can still rent foreign films from Netflix or Blockbuster, literally bringing the world to your door. (But if you DO live in the Windy City, the Chicago International Film Festival plays on through Oct. 22, allowing moviegoers to feast on films from Argentina to Kazakhstan to Uruguay and tons of places in-between.)

And that’s a whole lot cheaper than an airline ticket somewhere around the world, even if it’s not quite the same (or as much fun) as being there.

My mom Gloria stands just outside the Rome Baptist Church during our April 2007 trip to the Eternal City for our friend Monica's wedding.

A view from just above the entrance to the Rome Baptist Church, which stands in the charming Piazza San Lorenzo in Lucina, just off one of the poshest shopping streets in town.

Here's Holy Trinity Anglican Church in the gorgeous French Riviera city of Nice. This multiethnic congregation welcomes English-speaking worshippers from all over the world.

I don’t know about you, but I’m often more psyched about going to church on the road than hitting a bunch of must-see museums and boutiques. Although mornings and I have never been friends, when I’m overseas, I make a point of finding an English-speaking service, whether I need to hop on a subway or bus or use my own two feet to get there. I enjoy the religious aspect of worship but for me, it’s also about experiencing local culture in one of its most authentic and expressive ways.

A friend from work recently left on her first trip to Italy, and besides sharing the names of fabulous trattorie, ristoranti and shops, I suggested she stop into St. James Church, which I used to attend during my days of living in Florence. Introduced to St. James by artist friends Louise LeBourgeois and Steven Carrelli from my very own Grace Episcopal Church in downtown Chicago, I found this congregation a beacon of warmth, welcome and friendship. And while its Episcopal worship style is much more “high church” than at Mt. Calvary Baptist which I attended as a kid on the South Side of Chicago, it’s full of international people who speak English – no small thing when you’ve spent the rest of your week struggling through broken Italian! (I still get misty-eyed when I get its weekly e-mails and way jealous when I read about its “day trips” to Assisi and other historic towns.)

One reason I fell so hard for St. James was the soulful singing of the world-traveling Florence Gospel Choir, led by Virginia native Nehemiah Brown. Forget about that old American adage that “11 o’clock Sunday morning is the most segregated hour of the week.” Nehemiah had these Italians, Germans, Brazilians, and a few African-Americans singing gospel classics so passionately they might as well have been in a church in Philadelphia or L.A. (Check out one of their videos here.) And on Sundays when the choir sang, I was transported back to the South Side, where my dad Farnell was a minister of music at Covenant and Baptist churches for nearly 40 years.

Even if we don’t go regularly now, many – if not MOST – of us black folks grew up going to somebody’s church. Besides, even if you’re not super-religious, there’s something special and sacred about being in a house of worship – ANYBODY’S house of worship – even if it’s not a faith tradition you follow. 

It’s all about the idea of FELLOWSHIP, the bringing of people together. That’s why — even if you’re shy or traveling alone — it’s so neat to stop by the “coffee hour” or whatever gathering is held AFTER the service. It’s there you’ll meet church members, many of whom are expats living in their chosen countries and eager to chat about their overseas experiences. And you’ll meet fascinating fellow travelers who, like you, have found sanctuary in this same holy place.

My mom Gloria, a Sunday School teacher for more years that she’d probably want me sharing on this blog, and I love to do this. When in Rome for an Italian friend’s wedding last spring, we made our way to the Rome Baptist Church (no joke!) in a lovely small piazza just off one of the chicest shopping streets in the Eternal City. We sat in on a Sunday School class taught by a wonderful African teacher, met fellow students from South Africa, Nigeria and the States, and enjoyed a morning worship service in the same city where St. Paul was imprisoned, wrote letters that later became books of the Christian New Testament, and likely was martyred.

We did the same thing last fall before leaving Barcelona on a Mediterranean cruise. Taking a cab up this Spanish port city’s winding hills, we found ourselves at the small yet super-friendly St. George’s Church, an Anglican/Episcopal congregation filled with members from across the globe. Not only was this a church I would have been HAPPY to call home if I lived in Barcelona, but these were smart, well-traveled folks who were just as down to earth as any we’d ever met. (And coming on the heels of Barack Obama’s election as president of the United States, we found ourselves embraced by folks who just wanted to talk about the miracle America had just pulled off!) The service itself was spirited but deeply moving, bringing tears to our eyes as we realized the oneness of worshippers, no matter where they live or where their churches may stand.

Now that I think of it, I’ve checked out Holy Trinity Anglican Church in the French Riviera town of Nice. I’ve attended worship at London’s famed Westminster Abbey, where Princess Diana’s seen-all-over-the-world funeral was held. And any time I’m in Paris on a Sunday, I stroll past the super-posh Four Seasons Hotel George V to the American Cathedral in Paris, where I dream of worshipping when I’m someday living in the City of Light.

But in the midst of all the sightseeing in foreign lands, it thrills me to know that God is the same all over the world, that praises are going up in different languages and dialects and still reach heaven the same way.

And that, in the words of my former Baptist pastor, is something to shout about!

Talk about a heavenly experience. Along with President Barack and First Lady Michelle Obama, Malia and Sasha got to privately check out the famed Notre Dame Cathedral this month during their first trip to Paris. All kids should be so lucky!

I was thrilled to read last week that adorable young Malia and Sasha Obama would be joining President Barack and First Lady Michelle (and of course, First Granny Marian) in Paris and later London for their first European trip. It did my 40-year-old heart a world of good to know that these charming mesdemoiselles would be serving as America’s junior ambassadors to a continent obsessed with their glamorous parents—and one thrilled to see our formerly “you’re-either-with-us-or-against-us” nation back in the global mix.

But politics aside, I was thrilled for these two African-American girls, ages 8 and 10, both getting a chance to experience what life is like outside the prism of the United States. Granted, these are kids of privilege. Even if their dad wasn’t the leader of the free world, they’re the children of extremely well-educated and worldly parents and had a chance to travel to Africa back in 2006. But as I’ve found over the years, there is NOTHING like foreign travel to open your eyes to the realities of your own country. I just wish I’d had the chance to discover this way earlier in life rather than starting in my 20s. I’ve certainly tried to make up for lost time, visiting nearly 30 countries since then!

Just imagine how different we Americans would be if we started engaging the world as kids the Obamas’ age. It sure would be hard for us to demonize folks in foreign countries as “the other” if we’d had a chance to stroll their streets and museums. Eat in their restaurants. Shop in their stores. Hang out in their parks and visit their schools. And the same would be true if kids from other countries had the chance to experience America in person, rather than through stereotypes and caricatures we export to them through popular culture. 

And while I think it’s important for American kids of all races to have such exposure, I think it’s especially key for African-American ones. Whether affluent or poor, so often they grow up viewing their lives through other folks’ lenses, never realizing that there are places where they can just BE without being constantly defined (and often limited) by their color. It’s a freedom that’s hard to explain unless you leave America’s shores and spend time in other cultures where being black isn’t immediately seen as a liability. Which isn’t to say that racism and discrimination don’t exist in Europe and elsewhere, because they certainly do. But you don’t subconsciously spend every public moment waiting for some racially inspired slight, and that’s supremely liberating in itself.

So good for you, Malia and Sasha, getting out there and exploring this big, fabulous world of ours. And it’s good for the world to experience THEM, as well.

This image from Dorothy's Gallery pretty much says it all, doesn't it? Many French people I talked to seem to have as much invested in an Obama presidency as we Americans do.

“Obama: Savior of the world… and America?” So read the translation from a recent front-page story on a French publication during my time in Paris, the second half of my solo 40th birthday adventure.

This headline may be taking the “hope” message to an extreme, but what a wonderful time to be an American abroad again. 

And what a great time to be an AFRICAN-AMERICAN out in the world.

Since the election of Barack Obama, who’ll be the United States’ first president of acknowledged African descent, folks all over the globe certainly see America in a brand-new light. FINALLY, by electing this black man, we lived up to the platitudes and ideals the nation had been claiming for more than 200 years. We all saw the celebrations beamed from ‘round the world on Election Night – people hugging and crying in Australia, dancing in the streets in Kenya, celebrating after staying up all night long across Europe. But until you’re out in these countries, meeting “real people” who continue to gush about our president-elect, it doesn’t quite hit you just how negatively America has impacted the world over the past eight years – and how much HOPE people have invested in his impending presidency. Just like many of us in the States, they can’t wait for Jan. 20! And we American globetrotters no longer have to be apologists for our country’s policies, or ashamed of our president.

What’s heartening to me as a Chicagoan that now, when I mention my Midwest hometown, the first thing people around the world say is, “OBAMA!!” It’s no longer about Michael Jordan or gangster Al Capone. No, it is the Hawaiian-born former senator who is truly Chicago’s, and the world’s, rock star. Back in May, I remember talking (in terribly broken French) to a housekeeper in my small Parisian hotel who was thrilled about Obama’s chances. My mom and I took a Mediterranean cruise in late November and met people in Italy, in Turkey, in Greece, who couldn’t be prouder of America’s presidential choice. Even an Indonesian waiter on the cruise ship beamed, knowing that Barack Hussein Obama spent some early growing-up years in his native land. This American president truly belongs to the world.

During this birthday trip to France, I had incredibly thoughtful conversations with Europeans about Obama’s election, with them asking I had been “in the park” (my mom and I were!) on that magical Nov. 4th night in Chicago. It happened in Ventimiglia, Italy, where Ristorante Miramare’s young signore and I bonded over talk about the incoming president. In Villefranche, where a waiter at Le Cosmo Restaurant saluted me with, “Yes, we can!” after learning I was from the Windy City. I discussed Obama with my “magic hands” masseur in Paris. With a genteel older Frenchwoman dining next to me at famed tea house Ladureé. At Chez Vong, my favorite Chinese restaurant in Paris, where the waiters instantly piped up, “OBAMA!” after hearing my hometown. And during a home-cooked meal in Villefranche with three wonderful new friends from Ireland (on my 40th birthday, no less!), Olivia, Paddy and Grainne talked at length about our hopes and our fears for Obama’s presidency, one we truly believe can change the world. 

The global nature of this movement truly hit home for me at Dorothy’s Gallery in Paris. A tucked-away enclave in the bustling Bastille quartier , the gallery is owned by Dorothy Polley, an expatriate American who lives in France. During my stay in Paris, I checked out “Barack Obama President A United World,” the gallery’s second and marvelously uplifting “exposition” on the globe-changing election of this man. As you’ll see here, it featured paintings, photographs, sculptures, and even videos from 30 artists around the world — including African-American artist Ealy Mays – on the impact Obama’s ascent has had on the world. It should humble American leaders – and us as regular Americans – that the decisions we make and the votes we cast have more impact on our fellow world citizens than we’ll ever know. And that’s another reason travel is so key in this age of shrinking borders. Rather than just viewing the world’s reaction on CNN, we get to shake hands with it, discuss it, and see it up close in people’s hopeful eyes.

YES, God bless America!

 

Is this place gorgeous or what? A seafront view of Villefranche-sur-Mer, one seen by cruise ship passengers who disembark here for day trips on the French Riviera.

The compact Villefranche-sur-Mer train station that transported me around the French Riviera (or Cote d'Azur, as it's called en francais) -- and even across the border to Italy. The local trains were on strike during my visit, making for some challenging travel!

Villefranche became my base for exploring the Cote d'Azur... and one train-enabled day trip took me to the charming town of Antibes (shown here), as well as the larger cities of Nice and Marseille.

I don’t usually get hyped up about birthdays, but it’s not everyday you turn 40. And since I’ll take any excuse to take a foreign trip, I wanted to ring in this Jan. 4 somewhere abroad. Of course, I love Italy to death, am newly fascinated with Greece after stopping there twice with my mom during a 12-day cruise in November… but somehow, my mind kept drifting back to France. Paris is my all-time favorite city, but I felt like I needed to kick off this new year somewhere new. Different, yet romantic and ideally, Mediterranean. While reading one of my favorite twice-weekly e-mails from Adrian Leeds’ Parler Paris newsletter , I saw a listing for “Riviera Experience ,” an assortment of vacation apartments in the charming French Riviera town of Villefranche-sur-Mer, owned and managed by a super-friendly American expat named Shelley Benton. I checked out her Web site, drooled over the incredible apartments – and was immediately hooked!

Those who know me well realize that while I enjoy traveling with family members and friends, I’m equally fond of setting off on my own. And from the start, this 40^th birthday getaway felt like one I needed to take alone. I’m thrilled about turning 40 (even though I must admit, it feels strange to type out the number!), and see the start of my fourth decade as a great time for introspection. It’s probably my last best chance to figure out who and what I want to be when I grow up. Do-overs have pretty much run out at this point, so I thought two weeks in a gorgeous place surrounded by folks who’ve long ago mastered that whole “work-life balance” thing was just what the doctor ordered.

While my trip began in Shelley’s to-die-for “Artist’s Atelier ” apartment, right in the center of vieux (old) Villefranche, all roads eventually lead me to Paris, which is where I’ll spend the last four nights of my turning-40 adventure. I’m renting another one of Parler Paris’ stunning apartments in the hopping Marais district, a place I’m sure will inspire and dazzle me just as this city always does.

Perhaps 40 really will be the “new 30” for me – but only if I get to take the hard-knocks wisdom I’ve earned over the last decade with me into my fourth. One thing that’ll certainly go with me into my 40s – a never-ending sense of wanderlust and desire to experience life abroad as often, and as authentically, as possible.