My amazing husband, Michael, is never lost. The ultimate survivor, he remains at all times instinctively aware of significant landmarks and their directional relationship to his immediate location. Becoming lost is entirely beyond his comprehension.

I, on the other hand, have a naturally backward sense of direction that is comically unreliable. Whether in my own neighborhood or on the streets of Paris, being lost for me is just a minor detour that occasionally proves interesting.

So how did I convince Michael to enjoy Paris—a city he believed to have rude locals who wouldn't speak English—with me as his only guide? I showed him a large, color photo of the Medieval chapel of Saint Chapelle in all its illuminated, stained glass magnificence and told him, "You'll never see this if you don't go to Paris."

I knew him too well. He loved Gothic architecture and sacred music as much as I loved Paris. So while he cautiously agreed to see Paris under my loving guidance, he did warn me in his typical no-nonsense terms, "Just don't get lost!"

After assuring him that my prior trips there had taught me to easily manage the ancient neighborhoods of Paris, I began making reservations: A romantic but affordable, 14th century hotel room with views of Notre-Dame across the River Seine; a string-concert at Saint Chapelle; and a pipe organ concert at Notre-Dame. The rest would fall into place!

After walking a few blocks, I didn't yet see the hotel that I had so confidently expected to appear. Looking back at Michael, I realized he was star-struck by the sights and was following me like a trusting puppy-dog. He seemed obliviously unaware that I might be...lost.

Spotting an empty bench along the Seine, I asked him if we could rest for a minute while I checked my map. How could I tell him? Had we exited in the wrong direction from the subway stop? I felt devastated.

But he knew me too well. As he sat down beside me, it was clear that he wasn't upset or even surprised at my predicament. He asked in his most understanding way, "You're lost, aren't you? Let me see your map."

In less than a minute of perusing the map Michael remarked, "It's right there" pointing to the hotel, whose entrance had been partially obscured by the park in front of it. We had walked right to it after all.

Thrilled to have found the hotel, I was entirely swept away by the scent of dozens of fresh roses throughout its ancient lobby, the ornately carved staircase, and the unbelievable views from our room. Paris with Michael was going to surpass all my dreams!

And after 43 years together, life only gets better!

~ Lynda Alustiza