Ugly American or just Stupid American?

Well, I made it into Paris and finally to my hotel.

That's the short version.

The longer version is that all my flights (to Seattle, to Copenhagen, to Paris) were delayed. Upon arriving at the airport in Paris, I became initially confused as I did not have to go through customs. I only had carry on luggage, but they didn't even check my passport. Of course, I could have walked the wrong direction. But anybody worried about airport security in the U.S. should take a trip to Paris. It was a mess, and I don't think they knew where anyone was going. Not the safest feeling in the world.

Anyway...although I thought I was prepared on how to leave the airport via public transportation, it was a bit more difficult as I was tired, confused, and ultimately frustrated. So, I walked around the airport for probably an hour, declining polite requests from cabbies to take me directly to the hotel for something like 50 euros. I felt a bit like Tom Hanks in The Terminal. But without the crackers and ketchup. I finally figured out (with the help of a nice airport employee worker) how to get to the shuttle I needed to get to the train station (where I was able to buy a 5 day public transportation pass for less than the one taxi ride would have cost). I then took three trains on three separate lines, crossing through busy, confusing train stations and finally made what I thought was my stop. If you want to visualize this, here's the metro map for Paris: (map). Good luck.

The trains reminded me quite a bit of trains in Chicago. The trains themselves looked similar. The passengers looked similar, and I definitely recognized the run down buildings and graffiti along the route. I suppose all major cities look the same if you take public transportation. Not too romantic, but I guess that's not to be helped.

Anyway, I finally made my stop, only to wander around the streets of Asnieres (a suburb of Paris) until again getting directions (in French) from the woman I bought a baguette from. I found the street I needed and then walked MUCH further than I thought I would have to to get to the hotel. So, basically, I carried two bags while munching on a baguette to my destination--very French. Or something.

So, today then starts the actual trip (in my mind). The sun rises late here (8:43 a.m.), which I am not used to. It makes me want to go back to bed.

I hope to have more uplifting posts soon.

Au revoir.