les serpants dans l'avion

So Snakes on a Plane was a dud. It was dubbed. Plus, there is only macho-sounding voice artist in all of France, and his voice is used for Russell Crowe, Harrison Ford, you name it. But Samuel L Jackson? Samuel L mfin’ Jackson? It was almost too much to bear. Plus I kept falling asleep, so just about the time the snakes went crazy and started killing everyone I snuck out back to my hotel room. And then of course could not fall asleep. Until 6 AM in the morning. And then I had to get up at 9, and I looked pretty grim at breakfast. Fortunately they provide very large cups of very black coffee.

Had tons of time to kill today, per usual, so I walked the back way to the train station to check out wifi access and who did I run into? Willy and his girlfriend, who was taking the train back to wherever she lives. She seemed nice, and he informed that me in France we say “wee-fee.” So when I go back to check it out (because EVERYTHING is closed on Sunday here) I will say it correctly.

That only took up a spartan half an hour of my day, so I decided to try the Museum of Picardie next. Of course, I got there at 11 and they close from…12 to 2, like everything here, if it wasn’t closed already, so I took in the first floor of middle age art and then was kicked out temporarily. Walked to the supermarket to discover they were closed, just like everything else. So lunch was my last nectarine and a piece of a carefully rationed bar of white chocolate.

Went back to the museum but arrived just a bit too early and had to circle the blocks, getting odd looks. I had the museum to myself when they re-opened, and there was a nice docent that kind of shadowed me everywhere in his Mr. Rogers sweater, but never talked to me except to smile and say bonjour. The Archeology section was pretty cool, though.

Unfortunately the museum had some killer staircases and I was actually feeling a bit lightheaded, a combination of having nothing to eat and walking for hours on end out of sheer boredom. But on rue des Jacobins on the way back, a Turkish sandwich place was…OPEN! And the heavenly smells of roasting meet dragged through the door, like in the cartoons when the scent lifts you off your feet and you float along following it. So I got a chicken sandwich and made a new friend, Hassan. While the chicken was cooking he sat down and had a cup of tea with me. And while Willy’s intentions are somewhat to fairly dubious, Hassan’s are pretty much downright dubious. But after sitting alone in a hotel room, in a movie theatre, at a café, alone alone alone for 4 days now, I cannot impress upon you what joy a simple conversation brings! Just silly stuff like all he knows of the US he’s seen on TV, like Boston is crime-ridden and California is pretty. Both true. And I learned some more rudimentary vocab. Spoon! = Cuirrette. Probably not spelled correctly.

So now I have two official French friends and a chicken sandwich and the saltiest, greasiest fries you can imagine. What else could I want? A place to live after tonight, my last night in the hotel? Well yeah, I have that too! HUZZAH! I am moving into Alice’s house tomorrow, walking over the deposit tonight. Monday I will hopefully get a bank account and a cell phone and maybe some little plant or other housewarming something for my new room. And Wednesday I meet the rest of the assistants. Joy! The bad news is I have to check out really early in order to call a taxi and drop my stuff of at Alice’s before I have my appointment at the bank. So I think I’m going back to doping myself with Dramamine, I tried Nyquil last night for a change and had a panic/heart attack/aneurysm. DEFINITELY don’t need another night like last night. Let it be said that an empty hotel room is the loneliest place in the world. But things are looking up! Now if only my French would improve…

post-script: well it's monday & i am moved into my new garrett appt. & i thought the museum had killer stairs!!!!