Play La Marseillaise, Play it.

So, I'm in France. I'm in my little hotel room in Downtown Bordeaux, which is swarmed by rugby fans, and I am finding it difficult to believe that I am here.

What's perhaps more shocking is how smoothly everything went in my travels. Everything from drinking up as much wine as Air France would offer me, to me actually being able to navigate through Charles De Gaulle and make my connection. I even found my hotel without much difficulty, walking around like a stupid and fatigued tourist in a brand new city/country/continent/language.

Along the way I met some helpful and interesting people, not the least of which was the old man in Place Gambetta, who pointed me (mostly) in the right direction to my hotel.

But the day was not without its failures, even though it mostly went perfectly. I have done what I can to use French as the first option when engaging people--- however, for the most part, the response has been a slight smirk, and a response in English. J'espere que je peuvais parler francais juste un peu comme les francais...

Tomorrow I meet up with one of the English teachers at my lycee, and meet up with Evan, who is another assistant with whom I am splitting hotels. That and I hope I'll be able to get out and see more of my new city.