One night in Paris!

I took the train from Brugge to Blankenberge at 9:26 this morning and arrived at Joris Sport to pick up Citronnade by 10:30 a.m. The picture to the right is of Rudy Joris, owner of Joris Sport in Blankenberge.


Took almost an hour to pack all the saddle bags properly and get directions out of town. The honking heavy chain and padlock Business-bikes.com insisted I use had to go in the rear case, which made the bike even more top heavy, because if I put it in a saddlebags it weighted the bag down until it was touching a tailpipe or a tire.

Stopped a couple of times to get gas. Everyone in Canada was freaking out when it approached and, for a while, exceeded $1 a litre -- but Europeans are used to paying much more.

The French really like their coffee: the vending machines at the gas stations sell expresso and cappucino! I don't usually drink coffee, but decided I could use a pick-me up and tried one. It was remarkably good expresso, despite being from a machine.

Although the drive between Paris and Brugge should be only about three hours, it took almost six on the way there because I got lost.

I managed to do it in four on the way back, stopping a few times to pick up a coffee and take a few photos. Here's one of a sign saying I'm about two hours outside of Paris.

But Paris was a different story. Took the wrong exit off Le Peripherique Ouest and got hopelessly lost within a few kilometres of Business.bikes.com. Paris traffic is plenty scary and finding someone who would stop long enough to give me directions was difficult. A fella named Farouk finally gave me directions, after insisting on giving me his telephone number. He wanted me to call him tonight so he could meet me for dinner. I told him I didn't think I'd be up to it by the time I got settled, but he insisted I take his number anyway.

So I got back on Le Peripherique and took the wrong exit *again* and got lost again. Since I was doing such a lousy job of navigating, I offered to pay a nice young man named Eric on a Honda scooter to guide me to Business-bikes.com on Rue Rude. He gallantly insisted on guiding me "tout gratuit, mademoiselle" so I finally reached my destination.

Frederick clucked his tongue plenty at the scratches and damage (one of the mirrors was bent and part of the fairing was cracked) on Citronnade from the fall in Brugge. But he said he wouldn't be able to tell me how much he would have to charge for repairs until Monday, because they don't do their own repairs. The picture below is of their technician Christopher checking out the bike.


After repacking everything again I finally set off to find the Metro and Hostel Blue Planet on Rue Hector Malot, just a couple of blocks from Gare Lyon in Paris.

Folks in the Metro were very helpful, giving me directions to my platform to get to Gare Lyon. Trains of all kinds were passing by and I had a hard time making out the digital board where they announced the destinations of the trains. A woman on the platform saw me looking confused and asked me my destination. When I told her, she showed me how destinations lit up when trains were approaching and and told me I had to wait until my destination lit up. Efficient, once you know how it works.

I can't imagine someone in Toronto being that helpful.

I've checked in and an now heading out in search of dinner. Sorry Farouk, I'm hungry now. Then I'll walk around a bit. Will be hopping a train to Dijon in the morning, so I have to squeeze whatever I can see of Paris tonight.

Most of my drive from Paris to Brugge was in the dark, so I couldn't take any photos on the way there.

But since it was daylight I stopped and took some photos on the way back, including one of of the Belgian/French border, which is now a series of abandoned booths.

Had to wait until I got to Dijon to upload any photos; again the hostel Internet connection doesn't provide access to USB ports.