So! This morning I finally left for Paris! It took me a day to get over mom and dad’s departure (two days). We went to sleep “early” last night at 12:30 A.M. I woke up at 5:41 A.M. to go back to sleep until 6:05 A.M. Then I took a shower; got ready for traveling – glasses, fasting day.

Michael was up in his robe, with his eyes closed, “cooking a cup of coffee for me” and cutting up a pear, nectarine, and piece of special bread -for me to take on my journey.

I left and partly ran in the warm rain, with my umbrella over my head, carrying my small backpack and my blue pull suitcase. Made it on time to wait five minutes in the Ü-Bahn, and then to wait at the Bahnhof for the train to arrive. We boarded and left five minutes later at 7:46 A.M.

It was a nice ride, as I was alone in the first class cabin (this is beginning to be a habit!) until Strausburg. A not-friendly lady got on there replying, “Bonjour” to my “Grüss Gött.” And I’m still on “Prosim!”

We collected some more French riff-raft; a pleasant, slightly plump and scruffy family of three. The daughter was reading Rousseau and discussing it with her Proletariat father, while the mother slept.

I was snacking on cherries, cheese and mushroom spread bread, chocolate cherry bon-bons and a hazelnut tart mom and I saw and feasted our eyes upon Saturday- which looked better than it was.

Metro Strike in Paris

The big surprise came when we arrived in Paris Est!!! It had also been raining intermittently, but now stopped. As we got off, and de boarded, many people and I decided to find a tourist office- as I had several questions.

Well, there were many people asking questions and being disappointed, in mostly French and one in English. The guy was of no help to me, so I went elsewhere and was thinking about changing money, then getting on the metro to my reserved one-star hotel.

First, I stood in line to ask how much FF (French Franc) I would get for 16,000 SK. After I computed it, I went back to do the exchange and she then told me it wouldn’t work, as the only take Czech Krowns. So I exchanged 200 leftover CK and she told me where an ATM was.

Meanwhile I asked her where to buy the metro tickets, if it was at the “Billette” machine. She said yes, but it wouldn’t do me any good, as the metro was on strike. Aha!! That explains why I heard a French lady in the line asking all the Americans changing money if they needed a place to stay, and also telling them they would wait until 20:00 for a taxi, “Did you see the lines?” when she could drive them to her pension. Quite a sales lady, I am sure!

Well I wasn’t exactly sure how things would work so I entertained the idea of calling mom to relay to Helen that I may be late having unknown difficulty and to wait for me at the gate. The phones however were an uncharted, non-collect territory and I ventured back. Avoiding eye contact, thieves, and pimps, I opted against the blatant ATM smack in center of Bahnhof Platz. I instead relied on my very trusty last $100 of American Travellers Checks and took a poor exchange rate plus a commission in order to catch a cab to my hotel.

Getting to my Paris Hotel

The line was easy to spot – long and full of a variety of characters. From Japanese and German businessmen on the train I recognized from Munich, to a black habited nun, to scruffers, to a very nice and pretty woman in front of me (with her daughter) who was  taking it all in stride and laughing with me. The taxi drivers were trying to group people together and it was a really comedy of all sorts and all languages, including the international cab drivers.

The lady and I compared where we were going on the map. She was French, a Parisian and even had a metro map compactly folded in her purse. I was headed to Metro Vauvin and she and her daughter also close in that direction. we agreed that we could ride together.

It didn’t take until 20:00, we were on the way within 30 minutes of waiting. I didn’t realize how many black people live in Paris, or Africans I suppose. The streets were packed with all walks of people, including the 50,000 or so homeless out and about with mucho company today.

Once I got to the hotel, was still an ongoing adventure. The lady and her daughter got off before me (at 64 FF). She reminded me of Jinnah with blonde hair, she had the same face and makeup. She asked if I was German, and I said, “No, American. California!” She was surprised and told me that her daughter loves America, and they had been there twice. The last time was to California, Las Vegas, Death Valley, etc…

They were spending the night in a hotel close to her daughter’s school, as she had a test tomorrow. The mom had gone to the Louvre in the morning at 10:00 for an art class and the strike began after that. Chaos, but they were really cool and under control.

She paid the fare 64 FF, got out, and wished me a pleasant stay, after all her apologies about the striking condition. I then continued on to my hotel, and upon arrival the driver tried to get me to pay 93 FF plus the luggage 6 FF and one other standard fee 8 FF. I said, “No, she already gave you 64 FF.” So he readjusted it to 50, then after another protest by me to the correct 40 FF. He was even Asian, not French. I asked if he could pick me up in the morning for the airport, but it wasn’t possible, he said it was his day off.

 

Wednesday 2 June, 1999