The Problem with (a lack of) French

So we manage to get to Dover last night, then onto the ferry across to Calais this morning.  In Calais we locate the right train and eventually our reserved seats then this high speed train gets us to Paris in 90 minutes.  So far so good, but then the lack of fluency in French begins to take its toll.  We were supposed to phone the people who own the apartment we will be staying in once we arrived in Paris - the only problem was we couldn't figure out how to use the pay phone!  There we were, standing by this pay phone in the middle of the busy Paris train station trying everything we could think of to get the phone to work, this went on for over 20 minutes.  Finally I suggested try putting a 0 in front of the number we were given (based on something I recalled from making a call in Oxford)... that did the trick.  Beth started talking to the woman but within 2 minutes was cut off!  We hadn't put in enough money - unlike the payphones of Canada you do not have unlimited time on local calls here.  We tried calling back, but got a busy signal.  Arrgh!  Finally Beth gets reconnected and is able to make plans to meet the woman who is supposed to show us the apartment.  From what Beth could tell it sounded like we were supposed to call this woman when we reached the right Metro station (the Metro is Paris' subway system).

Thankfully our time on the London Tube prepared us for managing the Paris Metro and we did get to the appropriate station without too much trouble.  We got to street level and walk out into beautiful sunshine (where were you sun, the whole time we were in England?).  The only pay phone we could locate doesn't take coins, so Beth suggests we just get ourselves to the apartment and take it from there.  We had a map and without too much trouble we get to the apartment - alas, there is a gate to get into the building, one that requires a code - thus we can't get in to meet the woman.  Now what to do?

After some scratching of our heads Beth and Joshua decide to go off in search of a payphone.  If we could have spoken French decently I might have asked someone walking by with a mobile phone if we could borrow it for a few moments.  With our lack of French skills I'm sure it would have come across as a scam of some kind to steal their phone.  After a half hour a black woman comes up to the three of us standing in front of the apartment and says "Your wife phoned - I was waiting at the Metro for you" (except in broken English.)  I'm trying to explain that my wife went off to phone when I see Beth and Joshua in the distance returning.  It turns out that Beth found that one can use a credit card in the non-coin pay phones.

So finally we get into our Paris home for the week.  We climb three flights of a narrow curving staircase and hufffing and puffing we get into the apartment.  One quick look and it is apparent that the place we had in London was exceptional.  This place will certainly be useable but we are already discovering some bizarre quirks like the window that looks from the bathroom into the kitchen.  Well enough of this tale of woe - we are here, the location is great (walking distance to Notre Dame), and we can relax after a day of travel and lugging luggage.  Beth is doing a few loads of laundry now and we are gearing up to go to the see the massive fireworks for Bastille Day at the Eiffel Tower later this evening.

As a side note - I did not write as much as I wanted last week because between the conference and sightseeing I had little time or energy left... but I hope to do some further reflection on the past week in the coming days, and somebody simply needs to recount our experience at Cinnamon Island last night.