Jet Lag is Real

We are currently on a bus to Bruges from Paris. The first 5 days flew by and we are still trying to get our internal clocks right. Sleeping has been brutal! Drugging ourselves the first two nights didn’t do much good. We are slowly getting to sleep at a better hour (last night was around 2am). I have been figuring out the workings of my website and managed to link some things, although I have yet to post anything on the YouTube channel.

Arrival in Paris – A Rough Start

But let’s get to Paris! Right out the gate we pretty much got kicked in the balls. We arrived in Paris and attempted to grab a taxi at the airport. At the entrance to the taxi area a young man approached us and asked if we needed a taxi and explained that the area we were heading to was only for people going outside the city center. Immediate skepticism. Andre wanted to follow him, so off we went. I did not hide my disapproval, and eventually asked someone at the airport if the guy was a taxi driver. He was not. He was an Uber driver. This would have been fine if he hadn’t insisted that he was a taxi and quoted us a higher fee than the taxis charge.

So back we trekked to the taxi stand. We were so tired from our sleepless red eye flight, and very glad to finally get into a legit taxi and be on our way. We showed the driver the address that was provided in our Airbnb app. Turns out the long string of numbers was the post code of the area and had nothing to do with the specific building address… and we had no WiFi to message our lovely host. F@$k!!!

Once we arrived at the street that we knew our place was along, the taxi parked in the road in a somewhat precarious spot and Andre hopped out to investigate. It was clear that we wouldn’t be able to door knock for blocks and needed to get a WiFi connection in order to sort it out. Our taxi driver had grown impatient and got out to remove our packs from the boot. I thought I should get out and keep an eye on them, so I grabbed our smaller bags from the back seat and double checked that nothing was left behind. By the time I was out, the boot was closed and our packs were on the sidewalk. Andre paid the driver in cash and off he went. Andre then turned around and asked where the other bag was. The one with EVERY FU#*ING MEDICATION he and I might need for the entire year. This is a moment I no longer want to replay or think about. I wasn’t even going to put it in a post because it’s not something I want to rehash, but it happened and it explains the following days. Total. Kick. In. The. Balls.

Needless to say I started to cry. I couldn’t help it. I was tired and it was around 3000 Canadian dollars worth of meds. Plus I initially thought the bag had been in the backseat and I had stupidly missed it. Back to the meds in a moment. We still had no idea where the hell we needed to go.

A guy came around the corner and we asked him if we could use his phone to make a local call and lucky for us he was very nice and agreed without another word. We got hold of our host and the full address. The guy even walked us there to ensure we didn’t miss it. Our host was at work but her parents were there to greet us and immediately started making calls to taxi companies to try and help us track down the missing bag. Unfortunately we were tired and didn’t notice which company it was and we had paid cash so there was no way of tracking down the driver. Note: always pay with plastic if possible! I was completely deflated.

This was not an ideal start but things could only get better I suppose. I’ll save you the suspense. We have not found the medication, despite emails to multiple taxi companies, and a formal police report which required 3 hours at a local police station the following day – we really aim for unique travel experiences (insert our visit to a Filipino hospital within the last 6 months). The best part of the police station experience was the young officer vaping while we he wrote up the report, and then asking us how we liked where we were staying with an amused/quizzical look on his face when he took down our address. Apparently we were staying in a slightly dodgy area. The good news is we like slightly dodgy areas, and we would stay again.

The other good news is that we eventually replaced most of the drugs. Most importantly the malaria and migraine meds (700.00 dollars later – note: drugs are way cheaper in Europe and chemists will accept a Canadian script).

The first few days were obviously a shit show, and a lot of work trying to communicate our situation in a language we don’t speak, but everyone was very helpful which made things a lot better. After we had done all we could, we spent the remainder of our time wandering around in our area. We really liked the neighborhood, despite what the police had said. It had character! Lots of interesting people. Super multicultural with people wearing their traditional clothing, kids playing in the streets throughout the day, and cafes around every corner.

Accommodation

We loved the building, it was perfect for us, except I am quite claustrophobic and do not like lifts at the best of times, so I refused to use the coffin box and climbed the 7 flights daily. I recalled their size during my first stay in Europe and I am happy to continue to use the stairs rather than conquer my irrational fear. I like to view it as an excellent opportunity to embrace fitness.

Photo of Andre by the lift listening to me explain that I will most certainly die if I get inside the lift.

 

Race to the top

 

The flat was wonderful. It had everything we needed. including a tiny balcony where we ate our brunches. Oh, and the local supermarket Franprix had wine for as little as €2.75, and it was good!! It was also close to lots of little shops and restaurants. We wandered around and found the cemetery where Jim Morrison is buried, and otherwise just lived like locals in Saint-Blaise. We really don’t sight-see so you will not find photos of the Eiffel Tower or anything else touristy. I loved all the street art and architecture as you can see by the photos.

5 days in…

Now, let’s go to Bruges!