Arrivée à Paris

Arrival == success! I was expecting massive extra security and was pleased to find Paris pretty normal (except the heavily armed and uniformed military patrolling the métro station!). I was excited to have an entire exit row to myself on the plane, although the man in front of me, on a quest to find a working audio/video setup, ended up claiming the seat as preferable to his own. I spoke with him briefly (in his native French), and he thought I was Italian by my accent (which, I suppose, is better than being thought to be American). The flight attendant scolded him several times for accessing the overhead bins while on an active runway and similar misdeeds. I do believe I have personally witnessed the benefits of being foreign (he spoke English far better with me than with the poor lady).


Taking the RER to the Métro to the Stanford Center was not nearly the travail it was described as; I would highly recommend it (only €10!). Then again, this is coming from the girl who walked from Gare de l'Est all the way to Porte Maillot with a suitcase and an enormous backpack once (6km, or 4miles the shortest way), so there goes my credibility.


The best part about the set-up/welcome-preparation time at the Centre de Stanford was clearly one of the other students giving me her sandwich. That is, I appreciated all the information and useful papers that will make possible my entire stay here, but nothing beats free food when you're hungry. Although, this may be relegated to second place, because it turns out we have a Louvre membership card: for 1 year, we can get in for free whenever we want. Trump card.


It turns out that instructions telling you to "turn south" are not particularly useful in the cloud of disorientation one faces when emerging from a métro station, and that directions telling you to turn onto a street that you are already on lead to a good deal of confusion, but eventually I have found myself situated in a lovely apartment with a very kind, welcoming host family. They gave me tea; what more could I want? That, and a room, and food, and a tour of the area.

This whole room, just for me! Imagine that! (No offense to Stanford dorms, but…)

It's been a while since I've had a nice city view from my bedroom window.

In short, I am still safe and alive, and Paris has the best food. I heard it's ~70˚F in Palo Alto, ~-20˚F in Chicago. Well, it's 57˚F here and, true to the Paris norm, drizzly. Over and out.