Friday

Okay.

I am calmer. Time to document.

Friday morning I arrived at Charles de Gaulle airport after an uneventful seven hour flight.


I waited for Vaune and Brennan in the baggage claim after I waited in line at customs for an hour, only to spend 30 seconds actually going through customs. An hour later, Vaune and Brennan arrived. We waited another hour for Brittany, who never appeared. Finally we just left after it seemed that everyone from her flight had come and gone. Following Mme. Beaufort's directions, we took an Air France bus (€14) to la Gare de Montparnasse, where we caught a cab (€12) to le Centre Hébergement Kellermann, part of the Centre International des Séjours à Paris. It's basically a hostel, and we are staying here until Monday, when we leave for Angers.

Our taxi driver was pretty interesting. He managed a unique blend of being very French and helpful and also quintessentially rude. He hurried us along as we gave him our bags and berated me for not knowing which arrondissement le Boulevard Kellermann was in, but he also gave us a mini-tour along the way, pointing out various attractions. He asked us attentive questions about our studies, but cut me off if I tried to say more than a sentence. He also commented on my French. I think I am going to keep a tally of times that I hear, "Tu parles très bien le francais," in a surprised voice. Right now it's at 1 for me, and 1 for Vaune.

After our cab got here we were told that we could not check in until 2, so Vaune, Brennan and I wandered around the neighborhood and explored for an hour or so. Vaune and I bought grapefruit fizzy drinks and did not realize until we were drinking them later that they were called "Taillefine" - literally a drink called "Thinwaist."



We tried to emulate this image.



When we got back to CISP Kellermann, we were given the keys to our rooms. I am in a room with Vaune and Tessa. The rooms are tiny.



Showers were the first order of business. After that, Vaune and I attacked the second order of business - cell phones! We went to a store at Place d'Italie called Happy Phone, where a dirty Frenchman happily sold us phones. We both bought the same Nokia. He registered us both under Vaune's name, and since we didn't have addresses he made one up - 76 Rue de Voltaire. He said that it's just where they send the advertisements, so I have no problem not actually living there. Our service is a pay-as-you-go called NRJ (pronounced en-air-zhee, like the French word "energie") that we can recharge at any tabac (little stores all over France) or, apparently, at the Monoprix supermarket. Our phones were €39 a piece, and they came with €6 Euros. Turned out we couldn't use our credit cards because we don't have a little chip in them, and Happy Phone doesn't have a swip machine. I don't know if this is common - I hope not. I have heard that some places have swipe machines, but I do not know which is the majority.



After we got our phones we stopped and familarized ourselves with Monoprix. When we got back to the room we all took naps for a couple hours and then unhappily dragged ourselves out of bed at 6:30 for dinner. Dinner was horrible cafeteria food, and afterwards we just crashed again. Sleep is sweet.