Today was a very
challenging day. I started with excitement and an anxiety for what lay ahead,
but as I made my way into Paris I slowly lost my confidence that I could make
it on my own. Armed with the mantra “I’m a strong, independent woman” didn't do
anything to save me. Traveling away from home doesn't mean one can escape from
all of the entangling emotions, and I found that the farther I found myself the
tighter they pulled. I guess I’m a really nostalgic person, but I’m sure that
statement is of no surprise to anyone who knows me.
The streets here are gloriously and hopelessly confusing. What should have been a simple trek to the hotel, turned into a hike all around the area surrounding the Eiffel Tower. No one knew where Avenue de Tourville was, and half of the people I asked pointed toward the Eiffel Tower. The one person that was confident in his directions sent me the wrong way, which ended up in nearly a two hour detour. I walked down so many wrong streets, and found so many things I would have been more interested in had I not been dragging around all of my luggage. Once I dropped my stuff off at the hotel, this will be a whole lot easier I kept telling myself. With raw hands and sore arms/shoulders I finally made it to the hotel.First thing I did was take a shower. Between the fight, unexpected hike, and the warm clothes I was wearing I had worked up quite a sweat.
After much debate I decided to take a nap to shake my sour mood. Once refreshed I can tackle the city with a vengeance, and a much lighter load. I would still have a whole afternoon of daylight to take advantage of. When my alarm went off I had little motivation to get up considering how my trip had gone so far. So, I got up when it was already dark outside. It wasn't until my hunger got the best of me that I reluctantly went downstairs to ask the front desk attendant where I could locate an ATM. “Right on the corner,” I can do that.
Within sight of that very ATM was four or five different places to eat. I walked into one, and couldn't read the menu because it was all in French. I could only pick out a word or two. I considered just pointing but nothing compelled me to do so, even though the rotisserie chickens and pizza behind the glass looked very nice. I walked a little farther, and found an Indian Restaurant. I walked in and was greeted in English, with a big smile and a hand shake. I found it ironic that a place usually considered foreign in the States, can be a source of comfort and familiarity in a different country. One finds solace wherever you can, right? It was just what I needed to sweeten my mood.
On that high note I returned to my room, to adventure another day.
The streets here are gloriously and hopelessly confusing. What should have been a simple trek to the hotel, turned into a hike all around the area surrounding the Eiffel Tower. No one knew where Avenue de Tourville was, and half of the people I asked pointed toward the Eiffel Tower. The one person that was confident in his directions sent me the wrong way, which ended up in nearly a two hour detour. I walked down so many wrong streets, and found so many things I would have been more interested in had I not been dragging around all of my luggage. Once I dropped my stuff off at the hotel, this will be a whole lot easier I kept telling myself. With raw hands and sore arms/shoulders I finally made it to the hotel.First thing I did was take a shower. Between the fight, unexpected hike, and the warm clothes I was wearing I had worked up quite a sweat.
After much debate I decided to take a nap to shake my sour mood. Once refreshed I can tackle the city with a vengeance, and a much lighter load. I would still have a whole afternoon of daylight to take advantage of. When my alarm went off I had little motivation to get up considering how my trip had gone so far. So, I got up when it was already dark outside. It wasn't until my hunger got the best of me that I reluctantly went downstairs to ask the front desk attendant where I could locate an ATM. “Right on the corner,” I can do that.
Within sight of that very ATM was four or five different places to eat. I walked into one, and couldn't read the menu because it was all in French. I could only pick out a word or two. I considered just pointing but nothing compelled me to do so, even though the rotisserie chickens and pizza behind the glass looked very nice. I walked a little farther, and found an Indian Restaurant. I walked in and was greeted in English, with a big smile and a hand shake. I found it ironic that a place usually considered foreign in the States, can be a source of comfort and familiarity in a different country. One finds solace wherever you can, right? It was just what I needed to sweeten my mood.
On that high note I returned to my room, to adventure another day.
sorry that you had a bad first day i hope the rest were good
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