Due to time and money limitations, instead of composing elaborate posts, I am going to be copying excerpts from my journal throughout this trip. You know, bits that aren´t too embarassing. I will put the location and date of the journal entry as the post title. By the time they make it up here from the journal, I will most likely have moved on already.
I dread the moment when people and places become just memories.
I try so hard to hold on to those moments that I love, the people that I love, and the places that have given me so much.
But in the end, they are just memories.
8am bus from Victoria. Arrive Paris 4pm.
Writing this in the garden just behind the Notre Dame.
Got squished by the Paris metro. Had to give up and get off. Think that´s the first time I´ve been squished by train doors.
The many summers ago when I was in Paris, the metro smelled like piss. It still does.
What´s changed is the people. They seem to be nicer, and much more willing to communicate in English.
I cried leaving Nasty.
A metro ticket here costs 1.60E.