Paris, France, February 24, 8:43 PM It’s my 40th birthday and I’m alone in this Parisian restaurant. (Jason left for home today.) I’ve clocked nearly 9 miles on foot, walking all over the city, chasing distant architecture/interesting domes. My feet were starting to really bug me midway through, and were utterly throbbing towards the end. (It’s not entirely new, they were already doing that at home in training.) While on a bridge, taking pictures of the city at night, a Parisian gent approached me and asked if I wanted my photo taken. Of course, when traveling solo, it’s a chance not to be missed. It might’ve crossed my mind when I handed him my phone that I just handed off a whole lot of my current world: maps, credit card, and ID, beyond the phone itself, and that if it was someone of ill intent, I could be in a sticky spot. Before leaving home, I had this belief that surfaced when people asked me if I wasn’t afraid to do this trip alone: that humans are generally good, t...