It was morning when I arrived Charles De Gaulle Airport, Paris after a seemingly long flight. At the airport arrival hall, I dragged my heavy luggage and tried to look for a sign where I could take my 350 bus to Gare de l’Ets train station where I was supposed to meet Oliver. Unfortunately, all the signage was in French. I was temporarily lost and confused so I tried to look for the information counter which I did, so I asked the lady at the counter “Bonjour, Parlez-vous Anglais?” My first attempt to speak French! The lady spoke English so I proceeded to ask her where I could take the 350 bus. She gave me directions and I thanked her. I was told to go down a level and look for Gate 12. After asking two more strangers and another visit to another information counter, I finally found Gate 12. The 350 bus came and I hop on it and was on my way to Gare de I’Ets. So far so good.
I got off the bus across train station and walked across. It was approximately 9 –ish am. Oliver’s train was to arrived at 9.45 am. I waited. I tried to look for an information counter to ask about Disneyland Paris ticket but to no avail. A young Middle Eastern lady, head covered with shawl, long skirts and scruffy coat asked me, “Do you speak English?” and I was first excited because here was someone who spoke English and probably needed my help. True enough, the lady showed me a mini card board which had stuff written on it, something along, “I’m from Bosnia and my husband is sick. I couldn’t go back home. I need to feed my children. Please help.” I was not keen to help so I told her “Sorry, I can’t help you” and walked away. I’d probably walked about 10-15 minutes checking out the train station and suddenly turned around and saw the lady was still following me. Annoyed, I gave her two euro. Later during the few days we were in Paris, we had many encounters of these ladies, all with the same first line “Do you speak English?” and carrying mini card boards with different reasons but same objectives. So, we’ve learned to spot them and stay away from them or pretended that we don’t speak English.
Met Oliver at 10-ish. Slightly late. After 6 years, my heart still skips a beat when I see him. I love that boy that much.
Back to our journey, the apartment we booked was at the Chatelet area, which is quite the centre of Paris. Took the train to Chatelet and we looked for the apartment. Oliver with GPS on his phone led the way. We practically walked half of the neighbourhood, going back and forth for half an hour before we finally found the apartment, which, if we go back to the starting point, we could have reach the place in 10-15 minutes. Anyway, we checked in and rested for a bit and decided to start exploring Paris. What jet lag? Pfft. Time waits for no man and woman. We only had three full days to see as much of the city of Paris.
So this is where the adventure begins. But I’ll save that for the next post.
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