Part 3

Day 8

            I get up and I’m in the mood for some pastries, so I go to a boulangerie and point at  some interesting things. On the street that I’m on, there is literally a bakery every single block. I walk into a random one and one of the pastries is a mini-cake with almonds on it. It’s good and super moist and still warm because everything here is baked fresh. The other one is flaky like a croissant with small pieces of “candy sugar” on it. I can feel the weight gaining on me as I eat them. I’m going to need to be a serious diet when I get back.

            After that, I sit around and catch up on some TV shows. I then decide to go to Angelina, which is a really beautiful looking restaurant that is known to have the “Best Hot Chocolate in the World.” Despite Yelp not being huge in Paris, it’s one of the most reviewed places, so I need to try it out.

            I get there and the line is quite long. I hear people talking on the line and they say it’s probably the busiest time because it’s a Saturday afternoon. The tourists are all over the place and it’s the perfect time to have an afternoon break. We all know I do not have patience so I cut my losses and figure I can come some other time during the week. I check out the Jardin de Tuileres, Place Vandome, and almost walk over to see the Lourve (going in will be another day), but it starts raining and I give up. I have some pictures, I got out and saw some stuff, I’m done.

            I get back to the apartment and Freemurge has been gone this whole time, so I have the place to myself and take a nap. I wake up at night, grab some dinner at McDonald’s of all places, and call it a night. Speaking of McDonald’s, they have “Deluxe Potatoes,” which are spiced potato wedges. They’re so freaking good. They come with white sauce and they really need to get this stuff over to America. The sandwiches are also better because their specialty sandwiches are made with better bread (not great bread). They’re not soft and mushy like our buns. They’re more like a soft ciabatta.

Day 9

            I go over to the convention center and it turns out that apparently I’m not the only one thinking about the tournament that I’m planning to enter. It’s 480 people, which is way more than I expected and I’m not happy about this grind. If I do well playing for the $2,000 first place prize, I’ll be playing 10 rounds, leaving there until 1:00AM or whatnot. After 4-5 rounds, I’m out of contention, but still play a few more to hang around, and watch the Top 8 of the Pro Tour live. I would be watching it at home on my computer if I weren’t here in person, pretty cool.

            I head back on the metro and get to the apartment past 8:00. Freemurge is there and I inform him that it’s my last night staying over because I have a hostel booked. It’s a “party” hostel and it’s actually supposed to be the nicest hostel in Paris. Now that the Magic is over, hopefully I’ll finally have some fun and see some sites.

            There’s a Laundromat near the apartment, so I take the opportunity to do what little clothes I need to wash so I’m set for the rest of the trip and don’t have the worry about that until I’m back next week. Wow, it’s hard to believe that I’ve been here for more than a week and right now next week, I’ll be back in America. Time really feels like it flies when you don’t do much…

            Tomorrow’s going to be a bit of a shlep. I want to buy Freemurge a bottle of something for letting me stay for almost a week. I need to figure out the post office and send a couple of post cards that I have written. Then I need to figure how I’m getting to the hostel, check all my stuff packed, lug it all over across the city, and check in. Who knows if I’ll have energy to do anything after all that.

Day 10

            I wake up at 8:30 when Freemurge does and thank him for everything and say Goodbye as he’s going to work. I then run some errands. I go to the post office to drop off my postcards. It’s actually really easy to use. There’s a machine that does English, you choose the destination, it checks the weight, you pay, and it prints out the postage for you. America could use some of these. I then have to dispose of my luggage because the wheels broke so I have to sneakily walk around the neighborhood, find a trash can, and then just casually drop it off next to it and walk away. I already bought some cheap shittier luggage to replace it. I go to the supermarket to buy a bottle of Scotch for Freemurge. I then get some pastries.

            After sitting around for a while, I get some lunch and sit around some more until I realize that I’m really exhausted. Check in at the hostel is 2:00 and I could’ve made that, but I take that time to nap instead. Finally by 3:00, I decide to get off my ass, shower, get packed, and leave. I take the metro across town and get to the hostel. It’s really nice and very much like described. The lobby is attached to a bar and there’s a reception area and all. The room for 8 is very big and the bunk beds are huge and compartmentalized with power outlets and curtains. However, the bathroom is still shared by the floor, but it seemed clean when I checked it out. I guess the most apt comparison would be a Holiday Inn set up with nicer than college dorm living. The rooms are key carded and even to get around the elevator, you need a keycard to unlock the elevator so you can choose a floor. It gets pretty annoying that times that you always need your key to do anything. I’m not quite sure the reasoning behind it, but I guess they don’t want random people going around the elevators?

            I set up my stuff and decide to head out and see some stuff. The receptionist suggests walking down the street to a park. It’s a gorgeous park and I get a lot of picture taking done. I get back for the dinner that the hostel is offering. They have a restaurant along with their bar. The service is pretty horrendous though I get a decent sandwich out of it.

            After that, I go to the room and I have a quick talk with an Australian in my room. His story sounds ridiculous… ly awesome. He’s been backpacking Europe for the past five months and he’s on the last leg of his trip. He is planning to go to Switzerland though because he met a Virginian who’s study abroading there and they’ve been travelling together for the past few weeks. He wants to get a final visit in before going home. He mentions how they got matching tattoos when they got really high in Amsterdam. He then also says that he has another tattoo from the time he also was inebriated in Thailand. Jeez, the stories this motherfuck must have.

            I bought a bottle of wine as a part of the plan tonight, but that seems awkward now that I’m writing. Three of the people in the room are trying to sleep already and it’s only 10:30. Two are reading and one is floating around. It would seem super weird for me to just bust out the bottle and charge having it all to myself. I also don’t have a wine opener, though I guess I could push the cork down. Either way, this Sally has been sober for quite a while. I’ve only been out one night that I’ve been here.

            I man up and decide I need some drank in me, so I head downstairs to the bar. I grab a Kronenbourg. Some shitty guy is playing guitar and there’s a weird bald old lady singing French with her. They let weridos into this place for some reason and she asks for money from people after the song. The guy sucks balls. All his songs sound the same with acoustic power chords and the bass is way too high on the guitar.

            I sit down with some people are listening to this horrid guy sing his shit, bad versions of Metallica, Toxic by Britney Spears, and whatever bad angry music he has in his repertoire. The guy next to me is from Seattle, but lives in Shanghai. He decided two years ago that he wanted to stay there so he did. He’s learned Chinese in two years and now stays there teaching English to students. That’s an interesting choice for him and good for him that he learned Chinese that fast.

            There’s some other British people and Australians. There’s a girl from Argentina. There’s  a forward guy that’s travelling to Saudi Arabia for some reason and decided to stay in Paris for two nights. You know, the guy that just shoves his hand out and says, “Hey! What’s your name?!” A nice guy though and he brings out his chaoscillator and asks to perform for the bar of only 10 or so people. He gets a pretty cool lounge electro beat going and does a great rap over it.

            After a couple drinks, it’s about 12:00 and people decide to split up and call it an early night. The forward guy, Khan, goes off to find some weed and actually runs into me at the lobby computer area and says he found some. I guess I’ll be hitting that up in the next day that he’s here.