I'm writing on the train to Lille after being en route to Paris for 18 hours. The past day is a blur. I can't remember when I've last eaten; all I know is it was a gross pepperoni covered pretzel that I had to buy to get change for the pay phone. I remember sleeping in the Iceland airport for a few hours and dreamed about missing my flight.
When I finally arrived in Paris, I collected all my belongings and set out to find the train with the weight of my world on my shoulders. I couldn't think about the next six months, or the past 18 hours. Only where I was at the present moment and how to get to Lille. I had underestimated just how difficult and wearing it would be to navigate in a foreign place. Something as simple as using a pay phone to call my friend Jowanny was now as likely as going to the moon. I didn't have the right money, the right language, or the right disposition. (Smiling and pleasantries are not a universal language.)
After wandering frustrated around the same two floors for 3 hours, I finally lost 5 euros in what I mistakenly thought was a pay phone, had my credit card rejected at 4 different places, exchanged travelers' checks for usable money, and bought a train ticket to Lille. Once I asked everyone around me how to read my ticket assignment, I found my seat and watched France go by my window.
Ps- Didn't cry once today. Welcome to the gun show.
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