Anyways. When I last left you, I was in the Dublin airport at 9 AM and severely jet-lagged. I had one of the worst headaches of my life and my stomach was protesting the burger I had eaten the night before. This was not helped when I got to the gate and saw people drinking Guinnesses in the gate area. Not at the bar across from the gate. In the gate. Since it was around 10:30AM by this time, I was left to ponder how this would be labeled severe alcoholism in the US.
I boarded my AirFrance flight, and almost as soon as I was in the air, I was passed out face-down on my tray table. Next thing I know, the French flight attendant is saying to me "Mademoiselle, your tray table needs to be up."
The landing was fine. I took the shuttle bus into the terminal and set out to find the train that connects to downtown Paris, where I would then take the metro to my hostel. This was not easy, but, as mentioned before, FREE LUGGAGE CARTS.
It got a bit harder after I got off of the RER train and onto the actual metro. My bags kept getting heavier and heavier, and I was not a happy camper hauling all of my junk up and down those stairs. Elevator? Never heard of one.
Finally, finally I made it to my hostel and checked in. I was staying at St. Christopher's Inns in the 19th district. The room was amazing compared to the one in Dublin. Each bed had a privacy curtain, power outlet and night light. Not only that, but there were GIANT lockers under the beds. All of my stuff actually fit in it!
The minute all my stuff was put away, I took a wonderful shower (not having had time for one in the morning). In European hostels, the showers are unusual in that they are push-button operated. You know in a public bathroom, how with the sinks you sometimes push a button and only a certain amount of water comes out? This is how those showers were. Kind of annoying to have to keep pushing the button when shampoo is in your eyes.
After that, I was sitting on my bed when a girl asked if I wanted to eat dinner with her in the restaurant downstairs. I figured, "why not?"
Julie Anna is probably the most interesting person I've talked to in a while. She works for an international school that has its base in New Zealand and her job is to lead groups of people around the world doing mission trips. She had flown in from Jordan that morning to start her vacation and would be leaving two days later to meet some friends in Barcelona. She had gone to college in Tennessee and decided one day that all she wanted to do was travel. So she did.
We went down to the restaurant with this other kid who was staying in our room. Nick was from New Zealand and was backpacking around the world. He apparently couldn't wait to get out of France though because he "just hates French people." There, Nick called over one of the friends he had made at the hostel, Patrick, who was from Australia and also travelling around the world.
I ate a wonderful chicken/pasta dish and hung around until about 10:30 PM watching all of the Australians watch rugby until I had to go to sleep.
The next morning I woke up around 7 and could not for anything get back to sleep. I figured I might as well eat breakfast and walk around a little. The hostel breakfast was amazing bread from a bakery across the river. After eating, I figured I might as well walk around the block.
It was really quiet at that time. Many shops were not yet open, but the riverside was crowded with people walking their dogs. I even passed a public ping-pong table where three young men were playing a game and running around the table trying to keep the ball going. I returned to my room, considering that maybe I should post on my blog or something. My bed was too comfortable, and I was still jet-lagged, so I fell asleep.
I woke up around four still fully dressed and feeling the fact that it was not air conditioned in the hostel. I decided to clean myself up and take the metro to where I would need to go the next morning when I was moving in. Finding my way on the metro was easy enough, unfortunately, I had forgotten my map, so I had no idea of where to go after I got off the train. I saw a street, decided it looked promising, and followed it.
I kept stopping and looking for a place that sold maps (these did not exist). I ended up purchasing a Coca-light (diet coke) in a random grocery store and just wandering. Eventually I found a building that had a map of the local area painted on it. Rue Jeanne d'Arc (Joan of Arc road) was running parallel to me.
I got a good look at my high rise building and went back to the metro.
When I got back in the neighborhood where my hostel is, I saw a Monoprix (a store kind of like Target, but with much less stuff) and decided to go in to buy something to eat. I knew I could find a good bakery somewhere else, so I grabbed a jar of Nutella (chocolate hazelnut spread that is France's peanut butter) with the intention of finding one.
Outside the store was an adorable black lab puppy who was just sitting next to his owner's scooter. I wanted to steal it.
Finding bread was no problem. There was a line out the door at a particular shop, so I knew that was the one to go to. A baguette was handed to me for 80 cents and it was warm. I almost couldn't wait to bite into it. I went back to my room and ate the entire baguette in bed. MMMM.
Julie Anna came back from her day of sightseeing and wanted to get food in the restaurant again, so I went with her to have a coke and to sit outside (I was not very hungry for the rest of the night). While we were talking about our lives in the United States that we had left behind (which in her case was a little more drastic), a Parisian guy came up to our table to ask if we had a lighter. Seeing how I don't smoke, I have not really made a point to learn smoking-related French vocabulary. I must have looked confused, because he promptly switched to English.
He told us all about how he can't wait to get out of Paris. He is a second-generation Algerian who lived in an area about a mile away from the restaurant. He described how hard it was growing up in Paris being descriminated against because of his name and his religion (Islam).
I had learned about the culture conflicts of France in my French classes at NU, but it was really interesting to hear it from someone who had lived it. If you've read Camus's The Stranger, this kid was a little like that. He eventually left to go back to watching the football game that was on the bar TV. I called it a night.
The next morning, I woke up to huge dark clouds. In the middle of breakfast it started pouring, and I decided I'd better pack up and hope that it stopped before I had to trapse across Paris. It didn't. Next thing I knew, I was saying goodbye to Julie Anna, goodbye to the 19th arrondissement and saying hello to my home for the next 4 months.
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