It begins

I said goodbye to my parents at 2:30pm on Wednesday, the 18th.

Security was quick and I found Terminal Two in no time at Portland Jet Port. I spent the next two hours finding books to read for the next flight and utilizing the bathroom. You’re welcome, United Flight 3585. Portland to Newark was a short one hour flight. Three hour layover. And the flight to Paris…not so quick. Leaving at about 10pm, we were served dinner at 11pm. I finished that quickly, watched a little more of “Are You There, God? It’s Me, Margaret”. Beautiful film. I got a small amount of sleep and decided I will upgrade in the future for a little more leg room.

Arriving in France, I first saw fields. Lots of fields. And my excitement built. We landed at 11am local time. And so began the journey to leave the airport. It felt like a maze with a few spots I thought I’d be out and I wasn’t. I had my first attempted conversation in French, which lasted the entirety of one sentence from me: “Si’l vous plait. J’ai besoin d’un ticket de Navigo.” The kind lady at the desk spoke rapidly and I broke down into English, feeling like an idiot. That feeling has mainly persisted.

French 1 – Me 0

I did get the appropriate ticket into Paris proper. And after that, I found my way towards the apartment that a friend’s parents were allowing me to stay at. Finally, at about 14:00 I had my first French food experience: espresso and pain au chocolat (Bread with chocolate). Melt in your mouth pastry. I felt the gods had spoken.

I still had an hour to kill (though I thought two at the time) and went to another spot: Chez Nous. I will visit again. The server spoke enough English to help me with a few things and even complimented my French. It almost made me feel better. I realized that I can formulate words and construct phrases, but I can’t quite comprehend what is spoken to me in the natural speed of French people. In any case, it was all delicious.

My friend’s father called me and said he had arrived early. I hastily paid and trekked down the road. The apartment was bigger than I expected. It’s own kitchen. It’s own living room. Bathroom. And bedroom with a foldout couch. But, boy, am I happy to have this as home base for the next two weeks. Grateful is an understatement.

First Day in Paris next…