I see what you mean. I know there’s so much more to Paris than I could see, experience or write. This is true for every place. But I wrote about my emotions in this essay. All those main tourist attractions still mean so much to me, climbing the Eiffel or lighting a candle in Sacré-Cœur, as well as wearing a red lipstick and kissing Oscar Wilde’s grave or having dinner where Hemingway, Joyce, and Rimbaud had dinner before. Wherever I went, I was inspired, sometimes enchanted. They all made me yearn for a life I didn’t know I wanted to live. They all are a part of my best memories, the times I really enjoyed. So, I can’t disregard my feelings toward these places, just because they are tourist attractions — or I wouldn’t be honest to myself. And if my love for these places demeans me to a mere, silly “tourist”, so be it. :)