Under the English Channel to Paris (Aug 20th)

Nothing very exciting can happen on a bus. Although now I know never to take a 24 hour bus ride again, as it does not go well with my claustrophobia.

To go under the channel, we took the strangest train I have ever seen. It is like a ferry, a very long, narrow, ferry. The bus drove right onto it, and parked in a series of chambers that were wide enough for the bus and a walkway on either side. Fortunately, we were able to get out. The Jamaican in front of me had his seat leaned back, my backpack was wedged beneath my knees, and at any moment I was going to burst out of my seat, flailing about.

Though the ferry-train was interesting to see at first, I wish I could have actually seen the crossing. I missed the one to Wales as well, since it was dark.

I arrived in Paris exhausted and dirty, and managed to get myself to the other end of the city to meet my new hosts. I was just glad to be there.

They are a young couple living in Colombes, a suburb ten minutes from the St. Lazare station. I was welcomed in immediately, and able to take a cold shower right away.

Their small dog is energetic and loving, and adores to stick her head through the bars of the decorative grate on the window, watching the people below. The windows in this tiny Parisian apartment are classic: tall, with glass doors that open inward, and white metal shutters to block out the sun.

Before dinner, they offered me a martini, which I gladly took, and then we sat down to a summer salad that was a relief after days of eating bread and beans (Ireland).

My two hosts are relaxed, fun, kind, and generally a joy to be around. It is as if it is entirely normal that I am here, and I feel completely welcome. There are some couchsurfing hosts where you feel as if you are friends immediately.