Last Mango in Paris

This is perhaps undoubtedly the epitome of blog lameness right here, but I just had to do it. For all you Parrot Heads out there – this was on my Parisian bucket list. You got it… eating a mango in Paris. Ever since I was a little kid, this was one of my favorite Jimmy Buffet songs. I think I loved the song, in part, because I freakin’ love mangoes, but also because it illustrated a story of such a cool adventure to me… one that I wanted to have myself one day. And now, here I am – in Paris, with a mango (the ultimate, albeit nerdy, symbol of my journey).

To get here, I took a slow bus out of Saigon, rather than a plane; and then I took a fast train to China, rather than a fast boat – but I made it, with echoes of the song in my head all the while. And though I’m fairly certain I didn’t eat the ‘last’ mango in Paris (heck, I didn’t even get the last one at the market), the one I had tasted all the better under the shimmering, city lights. Thanks for the inspiration, Jimmy. And cheers to mangoes in Paris, to ripe tropical fruit in mid-autumn, to the merry melodies of the Coral Reefer band, and to everyone finding their own special adventure… whatever it may be!

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