I still can't believe I'm here. It seems like yesterday that I arrived. And it has almost been four weeks....tomorrow. Insane. I have missed the boat on writing on my blog, but today is the day, and hopefully continuing weekly. Fingers crossed.
SO where did I leave off....leaving. Of course. So the first flight into London was great. Heathrow airport - the scene of Love Actually and romance. Naturally I was only there for just over an hour, but all was well. No fairytale ending there yet. Key word; yet. I had the nicest girl sit beside me on the plane, we talked about work, and travelling. She was from Ottawa, but now lives in London, works for a travel company. The whole shabang. I kept thinking; man do you ever have the life. I was jealous but then again she was jealous of me and what I was going to be doing for the next six months. "You have no idea what you're getting yourself into" she said. I couldn't wait.
So I get on the next flight no problem, and I'm off to Paris. Holy crap this is actually happening was all I could think about. Didn't feel real. I sat looking out the window the whole time (not like I had anything better to do) and just prayed for some decent weather. I arrived in Paris and went to go get my bags. Oh those beautiful red suitcases came around the track alright.....one with my rain jacket trailing behind it. Super. I broke my f-ing suitcase. This would happen to me. So i grab the beast off the cart and its okay - just snapped open at the bottom - no biggie; I hoped. So i made my way to the SNCF station, finally figured out to get my 12-25 card and purchased my ticket to Lille. Wowzers. I'm a big girl now. Amazing. Had a little time to wait, and it was pretty cold. That was fine. The issue was my bags. A train that has no one to help you lift your bags on and expect you to do it in one minute flat before they take off again. Great. I can do it. Sure.....not. So the train rolls in and its go time. I try and lift one bag one, then the other (clearly not this quickly) but i get them. Then I realize that my bags don't fit through the bloody doors into my car of the train. What am I supposed to do with them? "Leave them in the hall between the two cars" someone said. HA; and get all my stuff robbed instantly? No thanks. But thats what I had to do. Didn't really have my choice. Paranoid me kept walking up to the doors to double check they were there, but they didnt move. If anything they kept blocking people from moving through them or going to the bathroom. Clearly Canadian. I was a show stopper apparently. A few chuckles from on-lookers like "who is this girl? clearly its her first time...." not even. But you try travelling with two suitcases that weigh as much as a 500 pound man. Then we will see who's laughing.
So I was told to arrive in Gare Lille Flandres. of course i didnt do that. I arrived in Lille Europe. Beauty. I had my landlord's number (who is supposed to meet me) and I'll call her. Except I get the answering machine....da da dummmm. So i leave my randition of super great french on the voicemail telling her where I am and what I look like. I have no way of her calling me back, so I tried to give a ton of detail. Funny thing is....you can call a payphone back. Kinda like horror movie flash back, the payphone beside me starts ringing. Im looking around at faces hoping someone is as shocked as I am, but no luck. So i walk over slowly, pick it up and say...."allo?"...ITS MY LANDLORD. wow. no freaking way. she called a payphone. epic really. i was floored. horror movie was my reality. anyways, told her where I was and she said she would find me. she had to call the payphone back cause she couldnt find me, but we finally found each other.
After the long walk and the total adventure of getting my suitcases to my apartment, I was "home". No one else at the apartment but me, but that was okay. I had my room, my old victorian style key and my balcony. I was set. The big windows were perfect. Better than any picture. I was gonna make this my place alright. I couldn't wait.
Now, food. Its new years day and well....everything was closed. After walking around for a half hour, what do I find? McDs. Ugh. My first meal in France is McDonalds. Gross. But not surprisingly delicious. And cheap.
I had no idea what my next week was going to be like before school started but I couldn't wait. I would explore, and meet people and live life. Yeah. Live life.
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