Ah, memories of Europe
So heres a good one:
After we almost missed our train down to Nice, France, (thanks to my brother!) we arrived at the train station and had no idea where to do to find our apartment that my friend was waiting for us at. She said it was 15 minutes away from the train station, and seeing as how we had way too much heavy luggage we decided to get a cab. So my brother finds a cabby who says he knows where the apt is. Great. Wonderful. So we get in the cab and I notice that he doesn't have one of those counter things on the dash, curious. After a few minutes he pulls over and asks someone if they know where the street is. Now I know this is normal, but for some reason it made me feel a little uneasy. Finally about a total of five minutes we pull up to the apartment and get out luggage out. We ask how much it is and he says, "vingt-cing" (25). Now for some reason I think I was in shock and didn't think I had heard right so I didn't say anything while my brother plopped 25 Euros into his hand! As we were walking up to the front door we looked at each other and went: 'thats not right!" Ah the fucking over of tourists.
The building looked ok, a little run down, from the outside, but we thought that maybe it was deceptive and it was really nice on the inside. Ah, how we were mistaken. We walked into what felt like an old insane asylum. It had huge ceilings and not much furniture, two twin beds and the whole swinging lamp from the ceiling thing going on. Kinda creepy. The floor was covered in what looked like spilled juice that I promptly cleaned up (haha OCD cleaner!). The oven didn't work, and we were right next to a road that went nowhere but somehow people still drove down it at two in the morning every night without fail waking us up. After the third night we were able to laugh at it. And the construction that started a few days later. hah.
So after we unpacked, we decided to go down to the beach and see what we could see. Forty minutes later (yeah, that was unexpected too) we found ourselves on a ROCKY beach!! Yeah, no sand, just rocks! Real comfortable. As we sat there watching all the people getting progressively more drunk we happened to grab the attention of three Italian men who promptly invited themselves into our conversation and began flirting with Marvi and I. An hour or so later and we had talked about France, America, Bush, and what kind of smoking we do, when a man tapped me on my shoulder and asked me if I was English. He then commenced to tell me all about how he loved the english language and wanted to practice with me. We talked for another hour or so about nothing in particular but it was wonderful because I've never had anyone in America come up to me and just start talking to me. Thus started our the part of our trip where we met random strangers that then became friends enough to invite us to stay with them for a week, or even a year.
I love the French.
After we almost missed our train down to Nice, France, (thanks to my brother!) we arrived at the train station and had no idea where to do to find our apartment that my friend was waiting for us at. She said it was 15 minutes away from the train station, and seeing as how we had way too much heavy luggage we decided to get a cab. So my brother finds a cabby who says he knows where the apt is. Great. Wonderful. So we get in the cab and I notice that he doesn't have one of those counter things on the dash, curious. After a few minutes he pulls over and asks someone if they know where the street is. Now I know this is normal, but for some reason it made me feel a little uneasy. Finally about a total of five minutes we pull up to the apartment and get out luggage out. We ask how much it is and he says, "vingt-cing" (25). Now for some reason I think I was in shock and didn't think I had heard right so I didn't say anything while my brother plopped 25 Euros into his hand! As we were walking up to the front door we looked at each other and went: 'thats not right!" Ah the fucking over of tourists.
The building looked ok, a little run down, from the outside, but we thought that maybe it was deceptive and it was really nice on the inside. Ah, how we were mistaken. We walked into what felt like an old insane asylum. It had huge ceilings and not much furniture, two twin beds and the whole swinging lamp from the ceiling thing going on. Kinda creepy. The floor was covered in what looked like spilled juice that I promptly cleaned up (haha OCD cleaner!). The oven didn't work, and we were right next to a road that went nowhere but somehow people still drove down it at two in the morning every night without fail waking us up. After the third night we were able to laugh at it. And the construction that started a few days later. hah.
So after we unpacked, we decided to go down to the beach and see what we could see. Forty minutes later (yeah, that was unexpected too) we found ourselves on a ROCKY beach!! Yeah, no sand, just rocks! Real comfortable. As we sat there watching all the people getting progressively more drunk we happened to grab the attention of three Italian men who promptly invited themselves into our conversation and began flirting with Marvi and I. An hour or so later and we had talked about France, America, Bush, and what kind of smoking we do, when a man tapped me on my shoulder and asked me if I was English. He then commenced to tell me all about how he loved the english language and wanted to practice with me. We talked for another hour or so about nothing in particular but it was wonderful because I've never had anyone in America come up to me and just start talking to me. Thus started our the part of our trip where we met random strangers that then became friends enough to invite us to stay with them for a week, or even a year.
I love the French.