Chapter 8: Part 1: Last Day in Paris

FIRST TRAVEL FUCK UP. So, booking the trains has proven to be more of a disaster than I had intended. The train to Bordeaux is fine really, I just leave a few hours earlier than I intended but this just gives me more time with Mary, which is fine. Even the train to Montpellier from Bordeaux is really ok. Rather than arriving the evening of the 21st I arrive the morning of the 22nd, one less night with Guilhem and his family, but that seems an acceptable price to pay for getting where I need to go during the crowded Christmas train season. What REALLY fucked up, was the train Back to Paris from Montpellier, which was to be on the 26th - the day of my flight to Dublin - but they had NONE that day.
Bopkis.
Nothing.
Zip.
Nada.
Fuck.
So, I was forced to book a train on the 25th at midday, mening I can't have Christmas dinner with Guilhem's family like last time (turns out I worried for nothing, they celebrated the 24th as you'll see later), and will spend Christmas Day Even in a Paris airport (Charles de Gaulle) Novotel. Oh yeah, Merry Fuckin' Christmas. I can't say the girl at the counter was UNhelpful, but I wouldn't call her HELPful either.
"I have nothing, I mean NOTHING, on the day of the 26th - all the trains would get you back in the evening."
"But, I HAVE to be in Paris, at Charles de Gaulle, by 13h at the LATEST, I have a flight to Dublin at 15h!"
"I have nothing!"
She had no sense of creativity on the subject, so I asked, "Is there anything between the 22nd and the 26th I can catch to Paris?"
Tappa tappa tappa.
Oh look, a train at midday on the 25th - why didn't I suggest that to you when you were so clearly distressed? Oh, that's right, because I'm a useless French beaurocrat! The strange part is, she was being charming and almost sweet WHILE being useless. Tickets booked now anyway and little more to do.

After that frustration I decided just to move on with my day, buying Christmas presents for Mary and Guilhem and his parents; chocolate, a platter and a bottle of wine. I also finally got to a post office and waited in line for the one window that was open while 2 other useless French beaurocrats sat at theiur windows with the "window closed" sign up. Finally, a second window opened and I managed to send my Christmas gift to Anna back home - a silver ring with a small diamond engraved with "je t'aime" in light gold colouring. Damn I'm a good boyfriend. After convering with the jolly woman behind the counter ("I wouldn't mind going with this package to Australia!" she said with a cheeky smile) I went to a small bakery across the street and had a croque-monsieur, a coke, a chocolate eclair and a pain au chocolate while listening to French acoustic reggae.

It was around 14:30 when I decided to kill some of my time at the Paris Musee d'Eroticisme which, as it turns out, is in Paris' red light district - walking down Rue de Bruxelles and the Blvd de Clichy, a blonde erotic dancer or prostitute, I could not tell which, approached me with a "pardon" and I ignored her and hit the museum. There were lots of wooden and clay carvings and sculptures as well as paintings and sketches. Also, there were the first black and white porno films, which were kind of funny because they had those silent film black and white intertitles with names and positions or dialogue ("Enter the Monsieur", "The Milkmaid position", etc.). The actors even looked like cheesy old film comedians. Once I left there, past an older French couple buying a very intricate sex toy, and was back on the street, the same blonde approached me, "Come on in."
"No thanks." I said, my face scrunched in mild irritation, thumbing the ring around my neck.
"It's only 10 euro for entry and a drink. It's a night club, take a rest." It was 15:30.
"No, thanks, really." I said and kept walking.
"Okay, see you soon." she said. No, you won't, "Ok. Bye."
On my way to the metro a woman flicked her cigarette and it hit my shoe. I looked up to see where it had come from and she had a look of horror and apology on her face, so I jsut smiled, nodded and said, "Pas de probleme."
The metro was frighteningly crowded again, to the point where I feared not getting on or off the damn thing. I finally made it back to the hostel and took a load off my feet and took off my shoes. Heavens knows I was smelling rank from my feet and underarms, and given the dodginess of this hostel and the terrible plumbing in the shower - the water comes out in 15 second bursts so one must continually press the water to take a shower, and if you let it turn off, it cools down again and takes more than 15 seconds to warm up - made showering difficult. I can't wait for the security of Mary's and then Guilhem's place.

I arranged with Mary a time and a place to meet me at the Gare with directions to her place as she will be in class, "So, tomorrow, you'll be met by a blonde, with a cat, who will give you keys and a map."
"It's like something out of a spy movie." I said. It feels weird telling her, "I'll see you tomorrow." but I will.

- from The Journal December 18th 2008