By bus, train, boat, and plane.

The Girls are in France

she invested in a cute bag

Bonsoir fellow nighttime readers, and happy supermoon.

Isn’t there something thrilling about reading by candle or moonlight?

It could be the giddy simplicity of needing nothing but fire or the natural sky. Maybe it’s the adrenaline of a productive mind on a quiet night. 

Or perhaps, you are meeting up with friends in Paris but can’t afford to sleep because your flight from London leaves at 3:00 a.m. And before you leave, you must tidy up a last pinch of homework.

This is where I found myself on a Friday night. A less glamorous behind-the-scenes of my thrilling weekend travels.

On the plane, we had such a long delay that I turned into Paddington bear. You’d think I’d just fall asleep, but I couldn’t stop eating all the jam and rice cakes that I packed for my trip. 

Good thing I had fuel because chaos struck when we landed. All of the U.S. passport holders flooded in at the same time, resulting in a line that forced us to wait over three hours for border control. Luckily, I was four hours early to my plans, so I just cruised on in.

Navigo Jeunes Weekend Pass

I was a free woman when I finally made it out. I got my Navigo easy travel card at a ticket office for weekend access to the train. The ticketer said he’d give me a discount if I came back to see him. But when I looked into it, I got the discount because on the weekends there is a special Navigo Jeunes deal for those under 26. How cheeky!

The train was light and warm, with colorful seats and a clear view of the bright blue sky, French rivers, and red oak. 

Touch down in Gare du Nord, and my first meal was a rich and creamy hot chocolate, paired with something that was extremely similar, but not quite an almond croissant, that changed my life. 

Lina and Aurora!

My phone was dead, so I have no pictures and can’t for the life of me find the café. It kills me that I forgot the name of the pastry and I can’t figure it out. I would recommend it a million times if I could.

Once my phone had some charge, I met up with my friends along a popular street called Rue de Paradis. After lunch we descended up 270 stairs to Sacré-Cœur so that we could pretend to be Amelié

Sacré-Cœur

The bustling tourists, petty thieves, and rambunctious taxis parted ways to reveal an unmatched view of the city. My favorite thing to do when I’m in a new place is visit the tallest nearby area and look down. It’s so satisfying to see the bigger picture.

A voice sang “tall and tan and young and lovely”… as a jazz band carried “The Girl From Ipanema'' from an acoustic guitar into our ears. The girls and and I oohed and ahhed at the French artwork displayed in the streets.

La Boheme

A woman dressed in all red ushered us into an outdoor dining area where we feasted on brie, mimolette, sweet butter, chévre, soft baguettes, comté, and delicious drinks. The dining area boasted red roses, french accents, and gentle lighting.

one of so many cheese boards

At nearly 9 p.m, we left from Paris Gare Saint - Lazare to Aurora’s home in Rouen. The train swept us from city to country, as the day turned into night. We visited an Irish pub (still in France, yes) and experienced the nightlife of young people speaking French, smoking cigarettes, and drinking beer at 1 a.m. with no food in sight. 

midnight pasta

I’ve said this before, but times like these make me feel like I’ve traveled back in history. Europeans have a different way of life from Americans, and abide by different rules. There is more community in sharing a table with strangers in a restaurant or bar, and buying bread every Sunday morning from your local bakery. 

BROWN CHEESE

P.S. I finally got to try brown cheese from Lina’s home in Norway! It was so sweet, paired with jam and bread.

After I said au revoir to Lina and Aurora, I went back to Paris to do all the touristy things. See the Eiffel tower, rue Saint Dominique, Les Invalides, the Rodin Museum, and wander the 31 °C, or 87℉, streets of France.

The next day, I got to see another amie. Making new friends abroad helps you explore different cultures and experiences, but old friends are comforting in that they remind you of who you are, or at least who you’ve been and where you’ve lived.

Shanna is a French tutor at HPU and we always spoke about meeting up when she’s home in France. I couldn’t believe that this became a reality! I joined her for brunch at Loulou where we broke baguettes while sharing stories and juice.

After we parted, making my way home to London was…a journey.

The heat of the French sun bore into my face and neck as I waited for my bus.

Yup, I booked a cheap ticket to get back to London via bus, knowing it would take at least 9 hours out of my day. I would do it again. 

Anything that could have gone wrong did. This bonded me and the other passengers right away. First of all, the bus stop was impossible to find. Once we finally found it, the bus driver didn’t show up, so an hour later, a man with no experience showed up to rescue us on an extremely plain bus. 

He frantically waved us onto the bus and explained that we will need to help him a lot on this journey.

macarons melting in the sun

As usual, my phone was dead. But I was hoping there’d be a charging port on the bus I had paid for. 

There was not. There was also no air-con, nor a working toilet. 

Note: don’t drink any water for the next 9 hours.

On this bus, there were Spanish, Korean, British, Irish, and French speakers. But through necessity we connected and became a team.

There were heart-stopping moments where one would screech: “left!”

And another, “riight!”, leaving the poor driver to swerve in and out of the highway. I just closed my eyes.

At some point, it was decided that no, we’re not going to London through the Channel Tunnel. We’re driving this bus onto a ferry along with any trucks transporting goods. What’s one more vehicle?

The immigration process started out strong and friendly, but our team parted ways once it brought out some racism. It became a mix of cooperating visa collectors and an English woman yelling to everyone that two Spanish-speaking people had snuck onto our bus. 

But they didn’t, because they were there the whole time. In England, all it takes is a moment, for the subtle racism and passive aggressive comments to turn into a full blown and panic stricken, “they don’t belong on this bus!!” This crumbled the team, understandably, but I was disappointed.

On the ferry, we were given meal vouchers, and I reflected on the journey with some lovely new friends over chili and rice.

The ferry was a stroke of luck because I found a restroom and even charged my phone a bit. 

Sun sets on the White Cliffs

We rolled past the white cliffs of Dover at about 9 p.m. After we were ushered back onto the bus, I saw the purple moon and fell asleep for two hours.

I awoke to a collective “let us off!”, “let us off!”, from Irish, Spanish, French, and English accents.

The driver had passed our Victoria Station stop by 8 minutes. 

Really, it was only fitting that the journey would end like this.

We came to a screeching halt and I rolled off in a delirious parting of farewell, au revoir, buenas noches, and ran straight to Victoria station to catch the very last tube. 

purple moon

When I got home I nearly kissed the ash-ridden pavement of Earls Court, and ran straight to my room for the longest le sommeil.

 

Merci France!!!

 

After notes: Hi friends, family, and prospective study abroad students.

Thank you for reading my public diary, and I will have a pt. 2 up shortly ;)