Nic Narrates

I’ve never seen a castle before.

Yes, I’ve seen Cinderella’s castle…at DISNEY WORLD (which for the record is actually Sleeping Beauty’s castle), but I mean, like, a real castle. I’ve never seen one of those.

I realized this today while reading about the Loire Valley and Ile-de-France regions (yes, I’m reading about France). The realization probably shouldn’t mean anything, not much at least, but somehow, it does. It does to me. How could I have never seen a castle?

I was force-fed Snow White as a toddler and was shown at a formative age that Madonna’s ‘Material Girl’ rendition of Marilyn Monroe was something to aspire to. I grew up in a room painted the shade of Pepto-Bismal. My hot wheels, albeit with a big tire full of rocks, was cotton-candy pink with glitter. I played in the sandbox and climbed trees in sundresses (scandalous, isn’t it?) in every shade of pastel and eyelet.

I’ve never seen a castle before.

This is THE year. It’s the year I go to Europe. It has to be. There’s lots of castles there. And none of those A&E kind of America’s Castles. Europe has all the good castles–ones that crowned kings and their bejeweled queens and twirly silk-skirted, tiara-laden princesses lived in. Ones where you can feel it in the air…majesty.

Filed under: childhood, Europe, princesses by Nic