Leaving everything behind...

I must have been the saddest, and yet FUNNIEST sight to see that hot summer's day, with ALL of my possessions/luggage on hand, leaving Germany for Normandie.

Luckily, "C" was kind enough to give me a hand with my luggage from his place to the train station, early that morning at 5am; both of us went on foot, (in the rain) with our bicycles trailing. To boot, I had the WORST period-cramps imaginable; I literally thought I was going to die...

Looking back on it, I suppose the pain kept me alert to all of the changes that were taking place. I was closing old doors, and opening new ones, and we all know that new beginnings are ALWAYS painful. Having said that, the pain was almost fitting/appropriate to the occasion...

Saying goodbye wasn't as difficult as I thought, however. I didn't even cry, (which was quite the shock considering how much crying I had already accomplished that summer!) I took in a deep breath...gave him a hug, and accepted that I'd have a long day ahead of me, followed by longer days to come.

From Germany, I connected to Strasbourg, but the train ran into technical difficulties along the way, just before reaching the train station (my luck.) Subsequently, I didn't have enough time to "compost" (stamp) my ticket in the station; I just managed to get myself ON the TRAIN, with ALL of my luggage!

BUT that was probably a bad move, since, as soon as the train started moving, I realized (in looking at my 'ticket') that I had not been assigned a seat. "Hm...fairly strange...a bit worrisome."

And before I could figure out what to do next, a train conductor found me in the isle, with a confused look on my face (I guess this is my "classic" very common look.) He asked me for my ticket and I provided him with all I had - my receipts, my itinerary and the printed (online) ticket I had received from a travel-agency in Freiburg. Despite my long explanation accompanying the supplied paper-work, he denied me, saying I had an "unofficial" ticket, and thus forced me to pay for a SECOND ticket...(Credit Card galore!!!!)

With a sweaty back, and tired arms, I merely resigned myself to the cafe-section of the train, where I sat up against a window to cool myself off. My cramps were JUST beginning to ease-up, and I was hoping the rest of my voyage would prove to be easier as well...

How I was wrong to hope for such things...how silly and overly-optimistic of me!

Upon arriving in Paris, to my dismay, I found that EVERY ELEVATOR AND EVERY ESCALATOR was OUT OF SERVICE. I shit you not: I lugged up 6 flights of stairs with ALL of my possessions (along with my newly-added -heavy- BOOK COLLECTION) to the street-level at la Gare Est. From there, I was to walk to the neighboring train station, "La Magenta," in order to catch a subway to "La Gare Nord," where I could finally access the train leaving to Normandie. (THE CLOCK WAS TICKING...)

Exiting the first train station, I looked up the HUGE flight of steps before me. (Anyone that has travelled via la Gare Est knows which flight of steps I speak of!) Without any choice, I began to climb. Yet on my way up, a young woman came to the rescue...someone who seemed to have quite the hand on her. Insisting for her to stop, I yelled: "Non non, c'est gentille mais ca va aller!" (No no, that's very nice of you, but I'll make it okay" but she didn't seem to hear me...

Now, I wasn't nervous that she'd STEAL anything. Indeed, the suitcase was large and heavy, and I'm a fast runner. However, I was perplexed as to what she was up to...no stranger in France could be so nice...! In the very least, I knew this...

Reaching the top flight, the young woman put out her hand to collect money. "Okay, okay...she helped me out," I thought. I reached into my pockets, and found a 2-euro piece. (3 bucks, which I thought to be fairly generous). Apparently this young woman DID NOT think so, at which point I came to understand what was happening: waving, pointing and flapping to a laminated (yet still somehow water-damaged) pamphlet, the young girl moaned and and groaned. The sign read: "Charity for the Deaf: Minimum 10 euros." I laughed my ass off, and shook my head: "NO WAY!" and managed to stumble away without too much of a problem...

I hardly could believe it...I thought to myself: "what a sucker, touristy, naive, easy-target I am," and I wondered for a long time what it was that gave me away: was it my pit-stains and back-sweat from all the running around? Was it my look of desperation? Or perhaps it was my more "classic" look...?

In any case, the train-escapades continued; and just before my wrists were (seemingly) about to break, I resolved to hunt-down a worker to help me carry my luggage. (These guys must HIDE, I'll say, because it was a difficult task to find anybody!) I took this opportunity to complain about the lack of services and amenities for the handicapped - "whatever should someone in a wheelchair do in Paris?" I asked...but the man laughed apologetically, as though he was listening to a familiar song. (So much for efficiency and progressivism towards positive change, I thought.) Apparently, the train stations had been under construction for a long time already!

By the time I reached the final train station heading to Normandie, I was sure ready to collapse, and that is exactly what I did! Feeling ::relieved:: upon finding my assigned seat, I reassured myself that I'd be going somewhere with less stress - somewhere to think..."the Normandie countryside"...a vacation with family; hence a time to "vacate" unwind and be merry.

I was so looking forward to being surrounded with people I loved, and to finally have people around me who loved me back (::sigh:: I then recognized my feelings of resentment towards "C's" disposition, and was reminded how badly my ego was hurt by his "lack of love" for me.)

I'd have 3 weeks to figure out where I was in life, since at that moment, I felt somewhere in-between: some immature girlish-stage with a hurt ego, and some independent, womanly phase. (Personality disorder much? hehe...)

KEY WORDS: La Gare Est, Paris, France, Living abroad