It's odd. Somehow I seem to have developed a sense of direction and am able to end up where I want to go, without having to put too much effort into it! I visited les hortillonnages today, it's comprable to Marymoor I guess, a huge park with lots of canals and a slough of sorts (or is it the Somme river? I couldn't say...) Lots of joggers and people with children and dogs and two young guys playing african drums in the center of the park. On the way back I went through a Saturday market, they seem to be much more functional and less for show than in the US.

I also visited the Cathedral. I cannot begin to describe how huge it is (the largest in France? or even Europe I believe, at least in the Gothic style) and it's claim to fame is the relic of John the Baptist's face. And lo and behold in a display case was a petrified brown face, set in a gold plate w/lots of jewels. Pretty gruesome. That part of Catholicism is always a bit odd to me, (relics). All along the cathedral were murals depicting scenes from the Bible and the history of Amiens. I think Jean D'Arc has some connection to here, but once again, couldn't tell you what. There was a french guy giving a tour and it seemed to be pretty amusing based on the laughter of the group, I might take it one of these days.

I made it to breakfast this morning! And my suitcase came. And l'hôtelier was kind enough to carry it up to my room for me. Unfortunately I can't get into it yet because the airport people locked all the zippers with heavy-duty plastic ties. So sometime this afternoon-evening I'm going to need to buy some scissors and also some insoles because my feet are KILLING me. I think my best bet is a hypermarché (French equivalent to a super walmart) but it's waaaaaay accross town and I'm pretty exhausted and zonked and queased at this point. So I think I'll nap first.

Also exciting, I made my first French friend. His name is Willy, and he doesn't really speak a word of english. I learned a lot of useful vocab from him, though: jet lag = déclorage horiare, begger = clochard, dead tired = crévé, mort, and when things are just screwed up, c'est en beton. And I can now name all the vegetables in a salad Amienoise. I also learned that French men are by far the best lovers in the world, but I should be v. wary of them (present company excluded of course). But he gave me his phone number and told me that if anyone gave me any trouble he would beat them up for me. Kind of reassuring?

That's all for now, time for a nap. Tomorrow I hopefully can move most of my crap to my new room, and hopefully not freak out l'hôtelier because he'll think I'm trying to skip out w/out paying my bill. But I have to check out of the hotel by 10 am Monday, and I have a bank appointment at 9, so really it'd be best to move my stuff Sunday night. I am not looking forward to lugging my 23 kg suitcase up 3 flights of stairs though. Will just have to cross that bridge when I come to it.

And as promised, a few photos:

ok well i lied, i can't get them to post :(

will try again later.