Oh la la... c'est Bastille Day!!!

So yesterday was Bastille Day... for those of you who weren't lucky enough to take Francais in High School/College... it's basically France's 4th of July. And well... I felt the need to share my only Bastille Day story with all of you at this time.

So here goes:

So my cousin was spending the summer in France studying at NYU en Pairs. And I was going to visit her for a week. My Aunt gave me my cousins address and info so I could just take a cab from the airport to her place. Awesome. So I fly in (on Bastille Day), get myself a cab and somehow tell the cabbie that I need to go to 55 Rue de Passy (about 7 years later and I still remeber the freakin address). So I get there to find out it's the freakin place that my cousins has classes... not so much where she's staying. So I start asking people "Je m'exuse...." etc etc trying to find out if ANYONE knows anything about the NYU in paris students and where they are staying. No one has a clue (and that may be in part because of my horrid Frenglais). And of course even though it's a weekday -- the offices are closed because it's freakin Bastille day, and everyone is out celebrating. So... ok... I have a phone number for my cousin. Whew. I find a pay phone. But you need a freakin phone card... there is no other way to call someone using coins. Crap. So I try to find a phone card for sale... and it's not all that easy. Someone informed me that I might be able to get one at le Metro station. So me and my luggage start looking for a Metro stop. Lucky for me -- som REALLY nice man (wearing painting stuff and carrying a bucket of paint... randomly) asked me what was wrong (as I clearly looked distressed) and in broken French I told him that I was lost and couldn't find my cousin and needed to call her but didn't have a card. He graciously gave me a phone card and told me to keep it... there was only a few francs left on it (this was before the euro... ah the days). So I call the number. And I ask in my best french "Je voudrais parler avec ANNIE FIGENSHU." (or something along those lines) Now that last name gets mixed up in english... let alone with a language barrier. They told me repetedly I had the wrong number and no Annie Figneshus had a room there.

So then I went back to the NYU in Paris classroom area and sat outside in the courtyard for an hour or so hoping someone would magically find me. They didn't. But there was a woman who told me that some students stayed in Paris on Le Bouldevard Saint Germaine. And that I might want to head there and just ask around. (which was a 25 minute cab ride from where I was). But I had better ideas, so I got another cab. And I told him "Le Boulevard Saint Germain s'il vous plait." He kept asking me WHERE on le Blvd St. Germaine. And I didn't know where... he took out a map and made me show him. So I picked a random spot and hoped for the best. Mind you this would be like going to Broadway in NYC and asking if people knew where the Sorbonne in NYC students were staying. Or something as bizarre as that. Like anyones gonna freakin know. So I get there... and theres a freakin HUGE parade for Bastille day down le boulevard saint germaine. With like the French army, and tanks, and flags and floats and all kinds of stuff. People were lining the streets with their Frnech flags enjoying the holiday. And there I am, walking around with my luggage, asking for the NYU in Paris students. No one knows anything... So I figured I'd get some money and just check into a hotel. I went to the nearest ATM and went to make a withdrawl. Apparently my ATM card - that my bank PROMISED me would work oversees - didn't. So I had about 100 bucks in francs from my birthday (whatever that added up to in francs I don't remember. I went into a few hotels to see how much a room was for the night -- and naturally they were all in the heart of Paris on a holiday weekend... so they were like 200 bucks. I was royally f'ed. I didn't have a credit card because it was back in the day. Awesome. So finally I pass by a little hotel, I go in and ask how much it is for a night. It was the EXACT amount that I had for one night. I said GREAT. And checked in. Went to my room, called my mom collect and broke down in tears because I was stuck in Paris with no money and couldn't find my cousin. It was horrible.

Luckily my cousin had called my Aunt who talked to my mom and we got everything situated. My mom told my Aunt where I was and my Aunt called my cousins and told her to go get me. It ended up that I was only like 6 blocks from where she was staying.. but it was a pretty shitty first day in Paris. Because from when I got off the plane until my cousin found me was about a 9 hour time-span. And I was jett lagged. And had my huge bag - which gave my all sorts of blisters on my hands the funny part?

The really funny part is that my other cousin, Stevie came 4 days later to hang out. And he
did the SAME thing. Except he just slept outside the NYU school until morning when my cousin figured thats where he was so she went to get him. hahahah.

And that... is the story of me in Paris on Bastille Day.... arent' you glad I shared???