After a couple weeks of shoddy Internet connections, marvelous adventures, and oh so much more, all roads have indeed led me back to this lovely little pocket of the world we call Rome. Let me just take a moment to heave a sigh (SIGH) and settle down comfortably on my bed so as to prepare myself to tell my tale. While certainly no epic, it is a tale filled with romantic landscapes, both gray and sunny skies, and quite a few pleasant surprises. This, ladies and gentleman, is a story I like to call "Spring Break 2008."

As you may well remember, it all began in Paris with a crazy shuttle driver named Tony. From there, despite complications such as crummy weather and unnecessary expenditures, I proceeded to have one of the best weeks of my life. Emily and I feasted on countless croissants, reveled in strolling aimlessly, saw almost every major masterpiece we've ever studied during our carriers as students of art history, and experienced every nuance that the city had to offer.

One day, we walked all the way from Belleville to the Louvre. Another day, we climbed the Eiffel Tower, saw the Musee D'Orsay, and shopped in the Quartier Latin. We trekked down the Champs-Elysees, hiked up to Sacre Coeur, discovered the hidden splendor of the Dali Museum and rediscovered the wonders of modern art in the Centre Pompidou.

We ate fondue, made our own crepes, saw a cabaret show at Le Divan Japonais (the one-time haunt of Parisian legend Toulouse-Lautrec) and even drank wine out of baby bottles. In all, our brief week in Paris was nothing like I expected and yet exactly what I had always dreamed of. It was fun, relaxed, exciting, and inspiring ... all in precisely the right portion.

After that came a snowy weekend in Amsterdam and then five days on a beach in Spain. More about those later.