My Trip To Paris

Day One:

 

Little did I know that when I boarded that bus to Paris, I was beginning the most stressful, scariest, yet most exciting adventure of my life. We drove for about 3 hours, where we made it to border control. Everyone passed through ad got their pasports stamped, where we once again loaded back onto the bus. We drove another 30 minutes or so, when the bus pulled into a large parking structure with hundreds of other buses.

 

A voice came over the announcer and began instructing the passangers...the only problem- everything was said in French(no duh). Everyone on the bus bega packing up their things and herding off of the bus. Confused, I departed the bus and began to follow everyone else. Maybe this is a bathroom break? It's nearly 3am and at this point I haven't slept an ounce. We ended up entering this terminal-like area, with lounges, shops, restaurants, etc. Everyone began sprawling out with their things, as though they had no inention of getting up any time soon.

 

"Ummm...this isn't Paris. What's going on? Where the hell am I? What are thee people even saying?! I want my mommy."

 

All of these thoughts were racing through my mind. I managed to find a few American girls:

 

"Excuse me, do you know what's going on?"

 

"Noooo idea. We're just following everyone else. You can hang with us if you want."

 

Never had I felt s happy to find some randm American girls in my entire life. I decided to sit down and try to fall asleep, since that's what ost everyone else was attempting to do. I sat down next to a window, where I caught a glimps of something rather surprising. THE ENGLISH CHANNEL.

 

I was on a ferry. The reflection of the moon over the water gave that away. Apparently, our bus pulled onto a ferry, along with hundreds of others, and this was the waiting area until we reached land. The ferry took about an hour and a half, where once again the French announcer came over the intercom and gave instructions. I noticed everyone herding back out to their buses, so I followed...still very confused.

 

I managed to find my bus(totally a God thing because I had noooo idea where the heck it was even parked), and we boarded once again, driving another 4 and a half hours. Anxious and scared out of my mind, I did not sleep.

 

The next hurdle came when I reached the bus station in France, 40 minutes away from my hotel, with no way of getting from the station to my hotel. I attempted finding help, but no one around me seemed to speak English. I couldn't read the map (it was in French...SHOCKER), so I did the best thing I could think of...

 

"Dad, help."

 

Let's just say that was one veryyyy expensive long distance phone call. But my dad advised me to find a cab. He contacted my hotel and pulled some strings there too(THANKS DAD I LOVE YOU). 

 

I found a receptionist desk at the station where I embarrassed myself by saying:

 

"Je ne parle pas Francais. Vous Parlez Englais?"

(I don't speak French. Do you speak English?)

 

Thank God I remembered something from those 2 years of French in High School. The woman pointed me over to an alley, where I was to "sit and cab come for you."

 

Sounds....safe? Okay, whatever, I'm too tired to even care at this point. If this turns out like Taken(the movie), I know my dad will go Liam Neeson on me and save me. i sat and waited for 30 minutes, and a black cab finally pulled up.

 

I showed him the address of my hotel and he loaded my bags into the trunk. FINALLY, things were looking up. So I thought... The entire cab ride consisted of the driver yelling and chastizing me for "being in their country and not speaking their language." He made comments such as:

 

Evil cab man: "Why are you here?"

 

Me: "I'm studying abroad in London and I'm visiting Paris for the weekend."

 

Evil cab man: "You speak French?"

 

Me: "I took 2 years in high school, but not really. Just a few words here and there."

 

Evil Cab Man: "Why you come here if you don't speak our language. You think you can come and expect us to speak English? In my cab, you speak French. We speak French the rest of the way now."

 

He then continued speaking the rest of the ride to my in French. I could only pick out a few words here and there, but I was growing increasingly frustrated considering all I had been through, without sleep, food, water, or money. 

 

We got to my hotel, and I handed him my international card to pay(cabs in London accept these cards). 

 

"No card. Only cash."

 

Panic set in once again.

 

"I don't have cash monseur." 

 

After arguing with him about not having money, he drove me to a nearby bank. No one in the bank understood me or spoke English. I told the cab driver I only had American dollars on me, or British pounds. He then, took all the money I had...$60. 

 

And so there I was, completely cash-less, exhausted, and plain alone. I got to my room, let out a good cry, and passed out on the bed for 6 hours.