What happens in France…

(Well it stays in France…right? Or so the french boys asking for smooches thought so)

Aix-en-Provence you have shown us distress, intrigue, amazing food and some bold as hell human beings.

It was by far our favorite French city, so thank goodness it was saved for last.





Y’all ready for this?



Okay, I will start by saying that I’m sorry it has taken me so long to write again.

No excuses, really, except that this trip is unreal. amazing. and tiring as sh*t. Can’t tell you how many times I have fallen asleep with this google doc open, only to find weird and tiny keyboard marks on my face in the morning.



Oh yeah.


I’m quite aware of how hott I am.


On to the goods.


Aix-en-Provence was the last stop in the little French Riviera tour we were taking and despite the hopes i had at the beginning of this trip, we were kind of glad to be peacing the eff-town ouuuuut.



I love French bread. I love French dessert. I do not, however, like what happens to French me and the a-hole peeps that don’t give a holy hoot about it, as they look on with cigarette smoke billowing from their skinny lips.


Can’t stress enough how much the French smoke.

Can’t say I didn’t give in a little bit — sorry mom, its glam here apparently.



So we arrived in AIP in the only fashion we know how to — disheveled and sweaty. And I mean saaaaahweaty. France was humid as all hell, so by the time we walked the mile and a half with our luggage along cobblestone, you can only imagine what my back looked like.


(When I asked Kailyn if it looked bad, she said, “….we are almost there”)

It looked like a fricken Rorschach test, and no one was about to try and interpret that sh*t, I promise.



We fiiiinally get to the hotel, only to find out that they don’t do check ins between 2-6.


….It was 3.


You are kiiiiidding.


Oh, you wonder how I know this? Well of course because the owner himself told us as he gnawed on his beef jerky stick and spoke in broken english about “no check in now. check in at 4”

I think my eyeballs could cut through glass with how salty the look I gave him was.

So as we left our baggage sitting in the “lobby” — basically a mini fridge and some weird juice machine — there was an unsaid silence between the two of us the next ten minutes.

As soon as Kailyn said something, I took a queue from the great Lou DeYoung herself and said, “I can’t really be nice right now, so we probably shouldn’t talk for a few”.

To my surprise, she laughed and said, “thank goodness, I want to not be pissed anymore but I can’t”.

Friendship, ladies and gentleman, it’s a beautiful thing.



By the time we got to the main square, amid the hustle and bustle of the quaint little town, we found something more perfect than I could ever explain to you.


It was called Monoprix. And it was glorious.



This was no ordinary convenience store, no, this was the little beacon of light at the end of the tunnel.


.65 euro cokes, cheap & weird candies, air conditioning, and snacks galore. It was the first time we had seen something resembling an actual grocery store in weeks and I think at one point we looked at each other and shared the same thought: we live here now.


It really was the simple things at this point.


We managed to fill our time the next four hours.

…with disaster, naturally.



So somewhere between Monoprix goodness and the slice of pizza I purchased, my wallet disappeared. One minute it was in my purse, the next minute it wasn’t. Granted, I let my guard down, so it could have easily been swiped, but I finally reached a new level of distress I hadn’t yet experienced this trip: panic.


We started searching, retracing every step and every inch of the places we walked, asking everyone we thought might be helpful with aided only by our translator app and after an hour we were still no where.


Kailyn had the good idea to ask the restaurants along the path we walked if anyone had turned anything in.

This is something that Americans do and consider normal and considerate.

The French, do not.



The first place I arrived at, a well of tears living just beneath my eyelids, I tried my best to communicate to the hostess that something had happened to my wallet and if she could ask someone if anything had been turned in.


She looked at me with surprise and said, “it’s 3:30 and we are busy”.



What.


Okay so, would you still mind asking someone??


This b*tch acted like I stormed in there with an “I want you” poster and demanded that she be recruited for the fancy-restaurant-hostess search party.


Simply asking for you to inquire about a wallet, not even help.


Maybe if I has asked for matches or a light?????

Jesus.


So she was no help, and neither were any other hosts that we encountered.


Wallet was gone, Driver’s license, Student ID, credit card, debit card and 50 euro with it.


….It was time to drink.




When we were finally able to get into our room we laid down and within minutes Kailyn was asleep, so I went downstairs to call the credit card companies and get my sh*t together so I could, I don’t know, have money for the rest of the month I was going to be here?


(The owner took the beef jerky stick out of his mouth long enough to help, so there’s a plus)



Despite the only majorly terrible thing that happened the whole trip occurring in Aix-en-Provence, we really did enjoy ourselves.




Each time something absurd happened, we could only laugh and decide that France wasn’t ready for us.


Even when we bought umbrellas to shield from the pouring rain, only to have it stop raining for the rest of the day three minutes later, we laughed.


Even when a crazy dude approached Kailyn and did a finger dance in her face, we laughed.


Even when the most stereotypical french boys with shrugged pants, tiny mustaches and tight shirts gave us eclairs that could have easily been drugged, and asked for a french kiss, we laughed.


And most of all, when we discovered our new favorite game show “Guess My Age”, we played along, and laughed our little booties off.


France, you gave us wonder & beauty & laughter & one hell of a muffin top, but I am afraid it’s time to bid you adieu!….Au revoir?


Whatever, either way, we out.




ITALIA, we are excited to be in you.



Stay tuned for the hilarious T-shirt post I promised.

And as always,



Keep it weird and keep it interesting my friends.



xx


Paige

1 Comment

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s