Veronica Lavil

Traveling historian with a writer's heart

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Tag: Travel Story

Travel

Road Trip: Tips for the Long Car Ride

September 6, 2017December 12, 2018by Veronica Lavil4 Comments on Road Trip: Tips for the Long Car Ride
Road Trip: Tips for the Long Car Ride

One of my favorite things to do is get in a car and drive. I used to live in a small town in the states, so there wasn't much to do back in high school. When my friends and I were bored, we would get in the car, blast music from our childhood (Lizzie McGuire [...]

A Foreigner in Paris, Travel

Scared of Mickey to Love for Disney

July 3, 2017July 18, 2017by Veronica Lavil11 Comments on Scared of Mickey to Love for Disney
Scared of Mickey to Love for Disney

Here is the story of my first time at Disneyland, which was in Anaheim, California. You would have thought that for an 8 year old at the time, it was every kid's dream to head to the land of Mickey. It was my nightmare.  When I was little, I was afraid of people dressed in [...]

Picture Perfect

High Up : The Story of a Mysterious Picture

January 28, 2017February 6, 2017by Veronica LavilLeave a Comment on High Up : The Story of a Mysterious Picture
High Up : The Story of a Mysterious Picture

One night, I was going through my pictures because I was bored. I was trying to find something to post on my Instagram, but I felt like I would find nothing new. I then fell upon this picture which I supposedly took in London. I do not remember taking it. I can't tell you what we [...]

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Veronica Lavil

Veronica Lavil

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I always wish I could know the stories that these buildings have been a part of. 💛 Someone please convince me that my life is real. It’s the summer sky for me ❤️‍🔥 It’s the moments when you doubt yourself the most. It’s the loneliness from being away from everything you know… to be honest, I’ve been away for so long now I don’t know what is home. My home has always been on the road. It’s the emotions you hide from others, the late night walks crying because you miss so many people you wish you could hug. It’s the moments when you’re sitting with people you’ve met on all walks of life, in some sort of way, talking about happy memories and the meaning of life. It’s for the small moments you feel so intensely. It’s for the moments. I finally got my residency in Italia. It’s official. Italy will have a hard time getting rid of me. ( 📸 @just_kimg ) Home is wherever you want to make it 🤌🏼 On the eve of my departure, I had a date between the city and I. I drank red wine from a paper cup from the windowsill of my hotel as I’d done on so many evenings from my first apartment to the last. I listened to the people going on about their lives - the neighbor singing, the people on the streets with their aperitifs, the clinking of pots and pans from an open window of someone preparing their dinner… I remembered nights dancing along the sidewalks, “took our broken hearts, put them in a drawer”, of mornings watching the sunrise from Montmartre, remembering the weeks I didn’t know where I would sleep next… and it was then that I realized that I had wanted a date between myself and the 19 year-old wide-eyed child that arrived, excitedly, to the city of her childhood dreams almost 8 years ago. Paris is the place in where I became so many things I never knew I would and could become. It’s a place where I’ve danced, sang, cried and had to rebuild myself. It’s a city that haunts my past but yet shines with her magical lumière. Every time I come here, I become more at peace with her, both the city and the lost woman I was. I’ll always thank them for making me strong 🤍 It’s a complicated love affair, Paris and I, but how can you not love a place that made you into the woman that you are today? That gave you the best people who continuously show up? I’m appreciative and grateful, though this city can drive me crazy, of what I built here. Paris will always, somehow, feel like home 🤍 https://www.instagram.com/reel/CfmqUyFrV1M/ As I sat in the courtyard of the halls I used to roam, drinking the same coffee from the cafe where I would spend hours studying (being served by strangers because those that used to work there no longer don’t - I wonder what happened to them), I couldn’t help but wonder how one place can mean so much and be so special yet at the same time be so scary. This place will always feel like home, but to another life and another woman. Though there are so many things I would turn back time on and change, I can’t help but appreciate how far I’ve come. I’ve made a beautiful life for myself and grieved the life I thought I would have. This new one is 100x better. I get to call two of the most beautiful cities in the world home. Ti amo Parigi. Je t’aime Paris.

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