And the French half...

So the plane ride didn't feel nearly as long as I expected it to be. It felt like a hiatus into another dimension- looking out the window, all I could see for the most part was a prodigious blackness that went on as far as I could see up and down, interputed by a bright wingtip beacon.

Upon landing I found myself in what I would describe as one of those gerbil mazes made of chambers connected by plastic tubing. Only, Charles de Gaulle Airport is made of poured concrete and glass, and mostly poured concrete. It was snowing and FREEZING cold, the grey concrete was unforgiving and it is IMPOSSIBLE to make european stangers smile. In short, my spirits were pretty down. I made it to the TGV station after finding my bags (I pushed them on a little cart for those who wondered how I got a massive amount of baggage across a mile of airport) and looked for some information about my train.

This is the most awkward part of my journey. My one suitcase is HUGE and not easy to lift while the other is bulky. Getting on a train (after an hour of waiting) a lot of people are in a rush to board, they all have luggages and there is very little room to store them all. In a squeeze of people I tried and failed to get my green luggage up and onto the storage shelf (a kind englishman helped me) and stored the other in a room intended for bikes. I found my seat and buried my eyes in the zines Abe gave me.

A wonderful thing happened on the way. Paris was essentially Michigan's weather. Cold, wet, bitter, everything is hibernating for winter. An hour into the journey- I noticed less and less snow on the ground. Then I noticed moss and things growing- and some trees with leaves. Then a patch of the greenest grass I've ever seen! It was like a train ride through the seasons- starting in the depths of winter and ending a few weeks into spring.

My final station approached. I get up to join the flock of people walking toward the door and I stand near the exit like everyone else. Except i'm in a doorway with an automatic door. The door closed square on my shoulders and trapped me- try as I might I could not budge. As I was humiliatingly squirming to free myself a man reached up and pressed the release button. And that's not all. Now I'm standing really close to everyone who has piled up near the exit door- in the middle of a crowd- the train takes a turn and everyone grabs the nearest piece of wall to steady themselves but alas there was no wall for me and I began to slow-motion fall onto the people behind me. When people realized I would fall full force onto them if they didn't help me- I felt many hands at my back and I stood up to find a piece of wall to lean on and feel foolish. People were nice though- I think a woman tried to tell me that happened to her one time in montreal.

The second the door finally opened - I see the face of my host mother smiling up at me. "Katie?" she asked (all french people say my name like K-ah-tie), I said, "Oui, Bonjour!" and she helped me and my luggages down and through the station to her car. The sun shone brilliantly, there were beautiful leaves on trees and downtown was adorable and bustling. It looks just like in the movie Amelie. I will wait for another sunny day to take pictures of Angers for you all, because it's not the same under clouds.

More later, including the fantastic three course meals I've enjoyed...