Paris - Day 1 (Note: Nothing is Open in Paris on Sunday)

I seem to keep finding myself in these gothic churches.... Thinking maybe I need salvation after this morning. I think I am committing blasphemy on some strange level, due to the horrible case of gas that I have. Nevertheless, the church is giving me solace - a place to recover and get my thoughts together.

I arrived at 6:30am via coach not really knowing that I had arrived, after several suspicious stops on the side of the road. My arrival followed an hour and a half ferry ride from Dover. It included two double gin and tonics and a long conversation with an Englishman who was interested in the political views of an African American, had a somewhat wayward step-son, and was fanatical about the rugby game he was attending in Paris. (by the way rugby is a viscious sport! geeeze these guys are crazy - made American footballers look like pussies, with thier pads - ha!) I dont think that I have ever been on a ferry - good time.

I walked out of the metro to find a ghost land. There was not a soul to be found. And EVERTHING was in French, including this fucking key board which does not help with spelling.
I was quite safe in London - now thinking I should have stayed. My stop was Opera which seemed to make sense at the time. I walked around for what seemed like hours. At this rate I would never find the hostel I planned to stay. All I wanted right now was a warm place to sit. The tears on my face started to sting, I didn't know if it was from the biting cold wind or the horrible feeling of being a lost Americaine in Paris.

RWPjr