With a last minute flight to Sydney costing $AU2,000, it’s time to look at other options. After some late night discussions it looks like we’re back to plan A – stay in Paris one more night, then head to Prague and Berlin for 4 nights (2/2 or 3/1), then carry on to Moscow.
Wait, where? Moscow? But didn’t this just happen there? If someone had just bombed an airport, would you still fly into it less than a week after the incident?
At first it cooled my feet to the level of a full retreat and surrender, but coolness gradually spread to my head and ultimately prevailed. Security will likely be tighter than a duck’s butt by Russian standards, which I can only imagine means they’ll put on at LEAST two more guys with bats or pointy sticks.
This trip was always going to involve a little soul searching, but the phrase is flawed, because my reactions to adversary were never predetermined. It’s closer to soul-shaping, because given a choice, when I’m exhausted, the easier always gets first consideration, but rarely prevails. I started this and god damn it I’m going to finish it, no matter how many French schmucks stare at me like I just peed on their shoes.
I think this is where the fear of the unfamiliar reaches its critical mass. It’s equally coupled with an overwhelmingly frustrating lack of control; anytime something goes wrong, there’s very little to be done about it, other than simply stiffen the upper lip and press onwards.
So putting the travel blues and sniffles to one side, it’s time to soldier on. Mike’s intent on waking at 9:30, which gives me two hours of solitude. I’ll write a little longer then maybe do some dawn sightseeing (yes, dawn, 7:30 and it’s still dark).
The hotel we’re in now, at roughly 1/5th the price of the one in London, is closer to the main attractions, and much newer, nicer and quieter, and has free WiFi. I therefore pay homage to Mike’s remarkable, seasoned acommodation-seeking techniques. I will defer to his extensive experience for all future bookings.
Vodafone UK – the twats – have joined the growing list of parties who’ve successfully screwed me over. 1 pound per 25mb of international data has just turned out to be 2 pounds for the first 25mb, and 1 pound per 1mb thereafter. Slight financial anomaly there, wouldn’t we say chaps? Also on the thievery list (just recapping a bit here) is Boingo for ripping me off with WiFi at Heathrow, the cleaning staff at the Umi in London for pinching all my receipts (meaning no VAT refund) and that fiendish vending machine in Sydney that ate my 30c. I also managed to lose my sunnies yesterday morning. That sucked. I will miss you, dear shades of glory.
Last night, I broke the cardinal rule and ate at McDonalds. I can only imagine how much Pulp Fiction has done for McDonalds in France. Sadly, Le Royale wi’ Cheese was unavailable, so I had to settle for Le Big Mac. Ordering was virtually painless, in spite of the language barrier. It came down to the checkout guy pointing at the tray then the door, and me responding by pointing at the tray. Add in a few ‘merci’s and ‘pardon’s and presto, one successful McOrder! The burger was just as disgusting as they are in Sydney, and considerably smaller, and the regret I felt after eating it was just as strong as the last time I partook in the unholy McSubstance some eight to ten years ago.
The folks back in London will be pleased to know the weather here in Paris is even worse than London. Still no blue sky, but add rain and a few less degrees Celsius. Gorgeous city, apparently, but I wouldn’t know; I can’t see it through the fog. Hopefully some casual walking about will illuminate that perspective a little.
Today is all about the sight seeing. The big ones come to mind – Eiffel Tower, Louvre etc, but I’ll report more on that after the fact.
