Eat charcuterie.
Rewind. Here are the actual events that transpired Saturday morning as I was attempting to meet my friends from NYC, who were visiting for the weekend.
11am: My TGV from Lyon to Paris is running late by 70 minutes. Train Grand Vitesse, my ass.
12:10 pm: Arrive at Paris train station. Hope on Metro line #1 to connect to Metro line #2.
12:30 pm: Realize that Metro line #2 (which is the one and only line that leads directly to the hotel's neighborhood) is closed for construction all week long. What is this, the New York subway?
12:40 pm: Duck under a canopy of Paris maps, sprinting away from the swarms of confused tourists trying to find the correct bus route to compensate for the lack of metro.
1:00 pm: Continue to tromp on foot to the Holiday Inn in St Germain des Pres, which I have seen a million times in my previous travels.
1:40 pm: Realize the Holiday Inn I have seen "a million times" is actually a Best Western. Damn.
1:41 pm: Realize that I left my Paris map at home
2:20 pm: After walking around in circles, find the Holiday in in St Germain. Air out the backpack sweat that is dripping down my Paris-appropriate sweater and skinny jeans as I wait at reception to get my key.
2:22 pm: Procure a map from the Holiday Inn concierge. Unfortunately, the circles and arrows she draws on this map are to point me in the direction of the ACTUAL Holiday Inn that I am staying out, which is a 35 minute walk away. Or a five minute cab. Really lady? You think I'm going to get in a cab NOW??? This has become a pilgrimage of pride.
3pm: Arrive at real Holiday Inn.
3:30 pm: Gracefully bow out of a tour of the Musee D'Orsay in favor of the ginormous glass of Sancerre and pile of salted meats pictured above. I'm pretty sure that charcuterie platter was designed for at least 4 people.
Though my weekend was off to an inauspicious start, it was nothing a little salted meat couldn't fix. Stay tuned for more of my adventures in Paris!
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