Je suis ici...finally

Je suis ici…finally

Yes, finally, I have made it to France. It took a lot longer than expected, and included a lot of ridiculousness along the way, but I’m here. I arrived to my hotel in Aix-en-Provence last night and intended to write this then…but promptly fell asleep. So now, here is the full, dramatic saga that is my travel experience.

It started last Friday, the 14th, with a last second showdown with the French Consulate Visa section: would I get the Visa? Phone lines are only open there between 3-5pm, so I drove down to Georgetown and parked my car right outside the Embassy and started calling them at 2:59pm. And calling. And calling each minute. Finally, someone answered the phone at around 3:25, so I (in English thank God) explained my situation about leaving that night, and could he just get me that Visa, and sure enough, he told me that I was not yet “authorized.” At this point we got into an argument that I won’t go into the details of but let’s just say that even though I was on home turf (in English), it did not end well, and he hung up on me. Flight was cancelled, fellow travelers were informed, dreams were dashed.

I did keep calling the Embassy until Tuesday, when I spoke to the Embassy operator, and she promptly told me to “stop calling!” My thought was that I could bother them so much that eventually they would have to give me the Visa…and it worked. Two days later, got the letter in the mail saying my Visa was ready (yes, they actually used Postal Mail), and I went back to the Embassy Friday to have said Visa inserted into the Passport. No physical confrontation with the guy I spoke to on the phone, we were very polite to each other, although he clearly recognized me and my voice. I think he was scared.

Anyway, my new flight was scheduled for 7pm Sunday night, and I was booked from Dulles to Heathrow, and then direct from Heathrow to Lyon. In Lyon I was then to meet up with my host mother, who had offered to drive me from the airport to the train station and take some of my bags while I went off to Southern France for the week. Exciting, right? Well, I made it to the airport, said goodbye to the parents (who were more than happy to see me go after 9 unplanned days together), got to the gate, and then we were delayed an hour and a half due to some battery issue. Fantastic. Flight was fine, first time on a 747 (although they did not let me go to the 2nd deck, disappointing), but we showed up at Heathrow about 20 minutes too late for me to make my connection to Lyon. So much for meeting that host mother.

After such a huge flight was delayed there were obviously hundreds of people needing to be rebooked, and British Airways had an army of people ready to help. Standing in that line though was an experience: in front of me was this big guy from Dallas talking about healthcare and taxes (I did not want to get beaten up in public, and thus refrained from interjecting), I was next to this huge (in numbers) Italian family chattering away about who knows what, and a couple more in front of me were these two families not next to each other yelling to each other in French. Once I reach the front of the line, British Airways comes through, and even though they can’t get me to Lyon in a reasonable hour, they do fly me to Nice, and give me a voucher good for 5 British pounds anywhere in the Airport! Amazing. As to how I spend the new cash money, I do what every other starving, exhausted (I cannot sleep on planes), overwhelmed passenger would do: buy fruit. I figured I should not mess with food on the plane considering the potential egg-induced side affects, and could not recognize any of the other things that were offered to me, so I devoured some fruit.

Anyway, make it to Nice, and now I officially was in France. But, of course, still over a hundred miles from my ultimate destination. But, this part went relatively smoothly. Made it by bus from the airport to the train station, and bought a TGV ticket to Aix-en-Provence from there, all in somewhat stumbling French. Each time I busted out some French, the people looked at me a little oddly, but conceded that they mostly understood what I said, and then finally helped me out. The French are so nice.

TGV was not as exciting as I hoped, it kept stopping in random places along the track, and the conductor would come on saying “the TGV you are on has stopped not near a platform. Please, for your safety, do not attempt to get off.” Great advice. But a pretty amazing trip down the French Riviera, not quite sure why I left Nice. But, we kept on to Aix-en-Provence, where I did get off some 2 and half hours later, and took a Mercedes Benz taxi into town. No major problems after that, as I smoothly made it into my hotel room, bought and enjoyed a bottle of Orangina, and quickly made it to bed.

Through my brief walk around the town and various methods of travels, I’ve immediately noticed a few things about Europeans. First, everyone smokes. The packs of cigarettes say “Smoking Kills” in huge letters, but, no worries, they all just light up everywhere. But, I did think that I officially had “made” it last night when a guy asked me if I had a cigarette. I completely stumbled over my response but to me, that meant nothing. Also, spiked hair is apparently the only way to go for guys here. Doesn’t matter how old you are, if you have hair, some of it (at least) has to be strategically spiked. I’m working on it. Finally, the French do drive on the right side of the road, but the sidewalks and roads all appear very similar here, and I have found out that it is quite easy to get them confused. No real lane markings or any of that nonsense, one flows into the other seamlessly, which makes for a few harried moments.

However, no major problems, and Aix-en-Provence is an awesome introductory city, the picture above is the fountain in the center of town. Somehow I did meet up with Spencer and Brian, and we are all now relaxing in this countryside bed and breakfast we have booked for the next couple days.

Finally, I am in France.