Well, I’m here, and I’m exhausted.
Never again will I travel alone with 2 suitcases and 2 bags; even an atrociously expensive taxi trip would have been worth it!
The day started off in a rush, as usual. Arrived at the airport with minutes to spare before boarding began. A flurry of too-quick goodbyes and a few minutes later I was stepping on to the plane. The few hours to Toronto was nothing; in fact, I’ve been on so many planes over the last year and a half, even the 7h40m flight to Paris was a piece of cake. What wasn’t so easy was the rest of the day. My flight arrived in Paris a tad early, around 9:30 local time. After the interminable waits – first for the bus that would shuttle us to the airport from the tarmac where our plane landed, then in the line for customs and immigration, and lastly around the carousel waiting for my luggage (which thankfully all arrived) – came the interminable commute, from the airport to the hostel.
My hostel is in the 20e arrondissement in Paris; it’s the same one at which Slawek and I stayed last year. It’s the largest hostel in France, and for 19 euros a night, provides a bed, a shower, and a free breakfast. For three nights it will be my home away from home, and I was looking forward to getting myself set up there. But first, I had to actually get there…
I’m sure the sight of a short little Canadian struggling with 2 suitcases, a backpack, and a shoulder bag was amusing to onlookers – and as I made my way through the city of lights, first on a train, then in the metro, then on a bus, there were indeed plenty of onlookers. All of whom just stared at me with bemused indifference, in that typically Parisian fashion. Of course, no one offered any help, or asked me if I was all right, as they saw me having to stop every few meters because my arms were giving out, or having to pause for a rest mid-staircase because I could barely lift the suitcases up the several flights of stairs leading up from the underbelly of the city. It wasn’t until I was at the hostel that an older couple (youth hostels aren’t just for “youth”, you know) took one look at me and immediately offered to take my bags down to the luggage room – and as it turns out, they were Canadians! (Of course.)
So far I’ve had a rough time: the fatigue from the travel, the exhaustion from the too-heavy luggage and lack of sleep, the stress of still having no details about what I’m doing in two days (no work schedule yet, no information as to what’s in the apartment or whether I have to pay rent or not, etc.)… Here I am in Paris, not far from the Père Lachaise cemetery, the weather is beautiful, there’s a fruit stand and bakery just a couple of blocks from here – and all I want to do is curl up in bed and sleep! I think I managed to pull just about every muscle in my upper body, and it’s not like I can just slip into a bubble bath to relax. 
But I have made contact (via email) with some other assistants that have arrived in France. I’m relieved to see that we all seem to be experiencing the same level of uncertainty and terror at the prospect of being almost completely in the dark and without support or guidance for the adventure we’re about to undertake. But as one of my friends said to me today in an email, it’s one thing to be tired and sad and stressed out and want to hide in your room, but at least I get to do it in a room in Paris!
There is still much to do: moving in to my studio, getting a cell phone, setting up a land line/internet at the studio, visiting the school, meeting the teachers, finally seeing my town, setting up a bank account (which I have to do by Friday if I want to be paid before the end of November)… I think I won’t begin to feel settled until I get some of the everyday essentials under control. Until then, I suspect I’ll stay in tourist mode. Which I suppose is OK for today, as it’s the only day I have that’s free of any responsibility – there’s no one I have to see, nowhere I have to be, nothing I have to do. I might as well enjoy it!
