Viva La France, Viva Moi

So it's been a little over a week since I arrived here in France, and between missed flights, language barriers, strange bedfellows, tons (non-metric) of baggage, and unknown rendez-vous, I have not had time to post anything until now.

Everything from the beginning is now pretty much a blur for me, so until I reach more current events, this will be a stream of consciousness.

Leaving San Francisco, the plane was delayed by an hour due to a mysterious "Is-there-doctor-on-board?" illness.  The remainder of the 10 hour plane flight consisted of sleeping uncomfortably and intermittently with the small airplane pillow propped in various positions.  Getting off in Frankfort, Germany, my connecting flight to Marseille, France was just closing it's doors, so I ended up having to take another flight at 9 P.M. Euro time, which brought me to France at nearly midnight.  Funny little language thing- Frankfort is spelled Francfort in French, which would have severely confused me at the baggage carousel if it was not late night and mine was the only arriving flight.

After a long (and expensive) cab ride that made me wonder if he was purposely ripping off the fresh-off-the-plane tourist by driving around randomly (don't worry, he wasn't), I arrived at the hostel in old-port Marseille, where I found out that I had actually booked a mixed room- and ended up with 3 girls as roommates for the night.  After finding out I had little to no contact with anybody, including the people from Humboldt I was supposed to meet there, I resigned myself to laying down on the lumpy pillow and waiting for morning.

The next morning I was glad to hear a knock at my door and see familiar faces behind it. Christine and Julie and myself then made our way to the station, and after figuring out the difference le train and le métro and how to buy a train ticket, we sat down for our first real meal in France...

Not so big.