Paris!
I write this sitting in an internet cafe in the 9th arrondissement of Paris. To get here, I walked out of my hostel in the 18th arrondissement (more about the hostel later, I promise), up to Sacre Coeur, down the hill, and along a main-looking street until I saw a neon @ sign next to a building.
(I haven't really got time to edit this, seeing as how I'm paying by the minute for the internet, so you'll excuse me if it doesn't shine with my usual grace of phrase.)
I have a lot to say about the airport, and the taxi ride, and the hostel, but that'll have to wait 'cause it would REALLY need editing. So for now I'll just say: my first French guy tried to pick me up about fifteen minutes ago.
I was wandering through the streets looking for a cafe where I could drink a cup of coffee and sit down and write about the trip here, and this guy walks up behind me and says, "where are you from?" So I said California, and he said that he could tell I wasn't from around here- I had an "American face." We chatted a little about nothing for a while, and then I got bored, so I answered one of his questions in French. He stopped dead in his tracks, looked at me, and said, "But you must be French!" I allowed as how I wasn't but I thought I spoke passable French, and he said that next time I didn't need to say I was American. "Vouz pouvez dire: non, non, je suis francaise!" We talked for a while longer, he asked me if I wanted to go somewhere with him, I politely (I hope) declined.
His parting words were, "Remember. By your French, you are French."
I'm happy now.
(I haven't really got time to edit this, seeing as how I'm paying by the minute for the internet, so you'll excuse me if it doesn't shine with my usual grace of phrase.)
I have a lot to say about the airport, and the taxi ride, and the hostel, but that'll have to wait 'cause it would REALLY need editing. So for now I'll just say: my first French guy tried to pick me up about fifteen minutes ago.
I was wandering through the streets looking for a cafe where I could drink a cup of coffee and sit down and write about the trip here, and this guy walks up behind me and says, "where are you from?" So I said California, and he said that he could tell I wasn't from around here- I had an "American face." We chatted a little about nothing for a while, and then I got bored, so I answered one of his questions in French. He stopped dead in his tracks, looked at me, and said, "But you must be French!" I allowed as how I wasn't but I thought I spoke passable French, and he said that next time I didn't need to say I was American. "Vouz pouvez dire: non, non, je suis francaise!" We talked for a while longer, he asked me if I wanted to go somewhere with him, I politely (I hope) declined.
His parting words were, "Remember. By your French, you are French."
I'm happy now.
posted by N at 12:07 PM
2 Comments:
*grin* What did I tell you, girl?
Congratulations! And you speak FRENCH!
You're going to have a wonderful time.
"more about the hostel later, I promise"...
Yeah, I want to hear more about how this hostel turned out.... It took me about an hour and a half to figure out where you were staying, and the result wasn't entirely encouraging :(.
It isn't really a "hostel". It's just someone who rents apartments on short leases and then sublets them to guests under the online _guise_ of a "hostel" (which explains the integrated kitchen, the shared bathroom, and the weird format of ~6 people all living together). Sometimes she has apartments that are nice, sometimes not. She meets you really just to let you in, and my understanding is you have to share the one key she normally has.... (This also explains why the address you had for it didn't seem to jive with the idea of there actually being a hostel.)
Regardless, I hope it's working out alright, some of the people have a wonderful time (the reviews are quite random, as are the reports of the friendliness of the owner).
She also doesn't have phone service in the apartments :(.
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