I took my first real vacation alone this week, to Paris. Paris is insane, I will be posting things as they come together in my mind over the next few days. Sorry if it is confusing, I will try to keep to the good stuff, but I am not making any promises.
The first night, I arrived after dark and took the metro into the city, so when I came out at the Hotel de Ville, it was one of the most impressive things I had seen. Inspired by this, I wandered a bit around that part of the city, running across the Seine and some more monuments and other impressive buildings in the process. Then I got onto one of the biases listed in my guide to the hostel. I got off at the Republique stop as directed, and started off in a random direction. This is how I have always navigated Vilnius, so I had some reason to place my faith in that course of action. It was faith misplaced, and I was in the arrondissement next to the one that I needed when a man with long blonde dreadlocks stepped in front of me speaking quiet but very fast French. “je ne parle pas francais” (not the first time I used this, even after I realized that I do indeed speak some french). He spoke English, and he wasn’t surprised at all that I was lost, since he had seen me wandering the neighborhood three times looking increasingly lost. First be pointed me in the direction of the hostel, but I think lacked faith in my ability to get there, so he walked me the ten minutes to the hostel. He asked if I was doing anything that night, and because I was tired and I make dumb decisions when I am tired, I decided to stay in.
So Antony, Paris DJ and Hero, if you ever find yourself in Vilnius or (for some weird reason) Idaho, I owe you a coffee at least for saving me from my own stupidity.