EasyJet is weird. They don't assign you a seat. Once you check in, you're given a group; They take the groups in priority order, and you get to choose your own seat.
In any case, everything went smoothly and we departed on-time, at 9:15ish.
I took this as we were taking off. Farewell, Berlin. À bientôt!
I read for the majority of the flight, but I got a few Z's.
I arrived in Paris-Orly just after 11am. Retrieved my bag and after some confusion managed to buy a bus ticket to Denfert Rochereau.
On the bus, I met a woman (name unknown) from Seatle. I sat down next to her and at first, she asked me something in French and I replied as best I could, but once we figured out we're both English speakers, we started chatting away. She asked me all kinds of questions about my French and other studies and traveling, etc. I, in turn, found out that she was in Paris for the weekend, with some friends, that she's been living in Europe, with her husband and kids, for a few years but that she will be moving back to the states soon, and so on.
We said goodbye at the bus stop and I took a minute to look around. I had several hours to kill before my uncle, Sebastian (who I'm staying with here, in Paris) arrived from Sweden around 5pm.
I wandered around for a bit. Luckily, my bag wasn't very heavy. I found a park and sat down on a bench, munched on an apple, and continued reading.
I pulled my bag up onto the bench and used it as a pillow, and in that way, I was able take a desparately needed nap.
I woke up about 1/2 hour later, slightly chilled and with a stiff neck. Note to self: SUITCASE does not = PILLOW. I got up from the bench and walked to an organic/fair trade cafe I had passed earlier. But they were closed. So I continued walking and happened upon an internet cafe. So I paid for 30 minutes and wrote a few quick emails.
I walked back to the train station/bus stop and kept going in the other direction. I eventually found a cute, very "French", neighborhood cafe on a small side street. The guy at the bar must have been the owner. If he wasn't chatting with with someone as they drank their coffee, he was outside, sitting on his motorcycle, smoking.
I ended up sitting there for a VERY LONG time, and even had to ask if I could charge my cell phone, because my battery was completely dead and I had no other way of getting in touch with Sebbe. I had just finished reading my book (One Hundred Years of Solitude) when Sebbe called. So I paid (and left a nice tip... I'd been sitting there for hours!) and headed back to the station.
I found Sebbe waiting for me outside and after a hug, we started walking towards his apartment.
I took a shower, unpacked (he was nice enough to give me 2 shelves in his closet!) and just as I was finishing up, one of Sebbe's friends rang on the door. We introduced ourselves and I stumbled around, completely embarrassing myself with my worst French possible.
We took the bus to the train to meet another friend at a sushi restaurant.
After eating (and drinking a beer I really liked, I might add) we walked about a block to Cafe Noir, which is apparently their favorite place to hang. It's a pretty small bar on the corner with a bunch of tables outside and really crazy, kitchy decor... this place looks like it's been replanted from Williamsburg, Brooklyn. So, hey! I feel right at home!
But after an hour or so, I was starting to get really tired. We finished our drinks (my first, S's 3rd) we headed home.
Sebbe was so kind as to sleep on the couch, leaving the bed for me. I was out like a light.
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