It’s been such a long day (…days… honestly, I’m not sure anymore) since Shane dropped me at the airport.
At some point in a dark cabin of an aeroplane, I lost six hours of my life. I stepped foot on the ground in Paris in the morning with my watch saying 1:15 am and my phone saying 7:15.
Jetlag is the catchphrase of the day.
My traveling group waited at the airport for over an hour to meet up with others coming in on different flights and then we all piled into two taxis and headed to the hotel where I lucked out and got my own room.
After a 30 minute nap and a freshening up that included sipping un cafe outside of a … well, a Cafe, a small group of us headed out into Paris where we decided, I’m sure in part to sleep deprivation, to walk the almost five miles to the Eiffel Tower.
Apparently, almost five miles is as the crow flies because when it was all said and done, I clocked 9.33 miles for the day. It was a long several hours of traversing through the beautiful and not so beautiful streets of Paris.
I regret not a single moment of it.
Within the first 24 hours on the ground, I can say I saw Paris; not just the famous parts, but a few of the parts you don’t see plastered on postcards.
It was fantastic.
We arrived at the Eiffel Tower and I found it as amazing at expected. Shortly before arriving, though, we learned that our entire traveling group was scheduled to take a trip there the next day, so we decided not to go to the top.
Instead, we found a local pub and had dinner.
Dinner in Paris is an affair, one I’ll have to go into detail about later.
After a not so short Uber ride back to the hotel, I finally crawled into bed after 36 hours of being awake and functional.
The first day in Paris was incredible, even more so than I could have imagined. And as amazing , to me at least, is how quickly I fell into communicating in ASL. More about that later, as well.
For now, the windows are open and the sounds of Paris fill my room. Sleep calls.