Finding true love in a far-away land, reclaiming a bit of joie de vivre through a holiday romance. These are such commonly woven yarns that they border on cliché. Eat Pray Love taught us we may find our soulmate in Bali on vacation. Midnight in Paris (and just about every movie set in Paris, it seems) taught us we could very well fall in love while walking the streets of the City of Light. But is there some truth to this trope? Can travel make us more open to love?