The following are the 3 diary entries I have written about my time in France, typed up in an agonising one hour session in an internet cafè with a retarded French keyboard (please excuse typos for this reason). No photos Im afraid.
Day 1: Welcome to the Ghetto
I really didnt like France when I first arrived [please excuse the tense]. I was nervous, hungry, loaded with baggage and had a long walk through a strange new town full of rough looking dudes ahead of me.
The bus dropped us off at a hostel about 2kms north of the Lourve, and about 500m from the Moulin Rouge and all the sex shops you could handle. Unfortunately I wasnt staying here, I was about 4ks north east in Clichy.
So with a bag on both back and front, a comically large map in hand and trying to look every direction at once, I set off for my Hostel. Fortunately the map was awesome, and once I got a handle on the scale of it; the town was pretty to navigate. I started to relax and take it all in. Apart from the fact that all the males had facial hair, cigarettes and acoustic guitars slung over their backs, I hadnt seen anything truly FRENCH yet.
That was until I crossed an intersection at Porte de Clichy. Some guy in an M5 cut off some other guy in a van. In the middle of traffic (french traffic, which is like regular traffic except without any trace of human cognitive thinking or sense of a common goal) a shouting match kicks off. The driver of the M5 jumps out (into another lane, to a wail of horns) and gives old mate a further earful, then spits through his window. You could tell by the velocity and nice even spray pattern that this guy wasnt new to spitting either. So arrogance and retarded driving, he was a baguette short of a postcard.
I finally arrived at the "Hostel Espenlaub" at around 9pm. It looks exactly like The Projects, and I'm quite sure its used as one. There are families all through it, with dirty screaming kids running through the halls at all hours. The only saving grace is, for 2 nights at least, I have a room to myself.
I cant find the shower so Ill skip that, and everything is closed so Ill skip dinner as well. So im dirty tired and starving, and really not having fun.
Day 2: Power UP
Its amaxing what a good meal can do for you. After feeling down in the dumps about living in the Ghetto, and the prospect of learning a whole new transit system, and not having eaten in 20 odd hours, I left the Hostel this morning a sad, sad man. Oh, turns out the room wasnt all to myself last night. At 2am I woke to discover a giant German man standing over me, looking for somewhere to put his gear. So theres one for the therapy group...
Anyway turns out the French Metro isnt nearly as weird as the DeutchBahn, and about 15 minutes later I was on the other side of the City near the Eiffel tower. That was nice; but I was still ravenous so I looked around for so,e grub. That was when I discovered a cafe that served the most amaxing croissants in France (so far). I took a bite of the first one and went straight back for 2 more. Washed that down with a Diet Coke (for that fast burning artificial sweetner energy) and suddenly this town wasnt so bad after all.
As a new man I went to the Eiffel tower to meet the bike tour group. On the way I managed to convince a gypsie I spoke neither English, French or German. The bike tour was really really good, and I met so,e nice people. It was refreshing to talk to someone in English again.
The tour wrapped up at 3pm and I went back to the Eiffel tower for a climb. An hour of queing, a few rainclouds and 700 steps later I was at the top, toasty and warm in my S1 jacket while the fashionable young French people froxe in their softcore Benneton hoodies. The rain was blowing in sideways and the metal floor of the viewing deck was slick, which made it more of an extreme thrillride than a regular old lookout tower.
On a roll, I found my way over to the Champs Elysse, then caught the Metro back home by 8. Had a nice warm shower and hit the sack feeling much better than 24 hours before, regardless of the fact that my new roomate was a snoring French man who hadnt showered since birth.
Day 3: Walk walk walk
Today was just a matter of seeing the things that interested me on the bike tour up close, and getting the usual tourist photos.
I went to the Lourve first, which was alright. The Mona Lisa didnt really blow my mind but there were a bunch of paintings in the next room that did.
Then I went to Notre Dame, mainly to sit down and get off my feet for a few minutes.
Then I went window shopping along the Champs Elysses and ate a few hundred more croissants.
This entry would be a lot more interesting with the aformentioned photos I think, but what can you do.
Anyway Ive enjoyed my time here, but Im happy to be leaving tomorrow (altho the prospect of getting back to the Busabout hostel by 8am from Clichy is a bit daunting). I think this city might just be a little too big for my liking, Hopefully Bruges will be alright.
Much love everybody.
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3 comments:
Good to hear from you again. Are you eating anything other than croissants? Your mother and brother are now a year older sadly!!
why would i?
they cover like, 5 food groups in one
And those five food groups would be ... fatty, greasy, tasty, filling and available. Yep that about covers it!!
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