Over the North Atlantic

It's unfortunate, but I have a lot of trouble sleeping on planes. I was awake most of the flight from Toronto to Iceland, then Iceland to Paris. Now I'm so tired that I hope the timezone won't matter at all. Me not sleeping:

Paris was very smoggy from the air -- I could just barely make out the Eiffel tower and the ring road from the plane, even though we were quite close. It may have cleared up by the time I got to ground level, because that took a while. I stayed on a train too long and it started going backwards... it really wasn't clear that it was going to turn around at Gare du Nord, OK? There were no announcements to that effect, not even in French.

Speaking of, I can understand simple things in French but not complex phrases. Still, people usually start speaking French when they come up to me. Maybe that's the norm? I also don't look quite as much like a tourist as that poor backpacker who was clutching a Lonely Planet Paris guidebook to his chest and turning in circles... (no I didn't photograph him, that would be mean).

I bought a SIM card for Lebara at a shop in Gare du Nord. Fortunately someone there spoke good English. It took us a long time to figure out how to find the APN settings on HTC's skin though.

Stepping out into Paris for the first time was incredible. There are so many little shops (I found a sci fi/comic shop within two minutes of course), cafes, markets, etc. Also, it feels like I'm in a Jason Bourne movie whenever an ambulance or police car drives past -- Parisian sirens feature quite heavily there of course. Doo dee, doo dee, doo dee...

This apartment I'm staying at is beautiful. The owner is a graphic designer and she knows how to decorate. When coming to the apartment though I was directed to "the second floor" and I fell into the North American trap of thinking that meant one floor above ground level. In Europe there's ground floor, then floor one, then floor two. Oops.

Until the next time,

~~ dwk.