Where’s Waldo? Where’s 7 Rue du Leopold Robert? Where in the world is Didier?

It is 3:00 AM on Saturday September 19 and I am sitting here at the computer after having GREAT 8 hours of deep, restful sleep. As I look out our apartment’s window there before my eyes is the Montparnasse Tower all lit up. Okay it is not the Eiffel Tower but close enough this time around. How did I not see it yesterday from this window? But let me back up 2 days….

Jim and I made it to Paris safe and sound. Our flight to Washington, DC was uneventful but all good things must come to an end. They boarded us onto the plane for Paris and then we sat on the tarmac for an hour while the mechanics fixed the windshield wipers which were broken. Got to have those windshield wipers working.

Of course that put us an hour late to arrive in Paris (we were to arrive at 7:00 Am but instead arrived at 8) which leads to the next story.

Our landlord was planning on meeting us here at the apartment around 9:30 AM Friday morning. That would have given us plenty of time to get from Charles De Gaul airport to Paris city center on the train. He had another appointment he had to leave for at 10:15AM so we knew that we had a time constraint.

By the time the bags made their way to the terminal for pickup we were looking at 8:45AM. Then we found the train to get us to Paris and knew that it took around 40 minutes so we were crunching the numbers and figured that we would get to the apartment around 9:30 so we could check in and he could leave.

His directions were pretty clear or so we thought. We exited the train stop and emerged onto an intersection much like Grand Avenue in Phoenix without the traffic lights. There were cars going every direction. We finally made our way across the street and proceeded in the direction he had told us to go—or so we thought. We spent the next 2 hours dragging our luggage walking around in circles, going this way and that way, up and down tiny streets, around this corner and that corner trying to find our street. We passed the same beggar probably a dozen times who could have been a millionaire if we had given him a euro every time we passed! Where in the world is 7 Rue du Leopold Robert? Even a post lady didn’t know!!!

Finally I told Jim to get a cab to take us there BUT the cab driver wouldn’t because it was only 2 minutes away!!!! We told the cabbie we would pay him 10 euros but he still said no while pointing in the direction we needed to walk—which we had already done!

So I told Jim to leave me on a park bench with the luggage and sent him off looking. Of course while he was gone all sorts of thoughts came to mind; like how long would I wait there if he didn’t show up, what if someone came up and tried to steal my luggage which would I protect and what would I let go, what if Jim forgot where he left me, etc.

Finally Jim came back after having success at finding the apartment at the same time as I figured out how to use my European cell phone to call Mr. Didier. After reaching him he informed us that he had to leave and wouldn’t be back to check us in until 3:30 PM!

He did tell us the code to get into the building so we could put our luggage by our apartment. The building has a tiny, tiny elevator so Jim went up with one piece of luggage, came down and got the next piece of luggage, and then back down and both of us went up to the 6th floor to see the door of our apartment that we couldn’t access.

So we spent the next 5 hours going from café to café (so I can use the restrooms and we could also kill time). We had a sandwich and drink at one. Then we went to another for crepes and ice cream. We went into another one just for a diet coke so that we had access to the restroom again. Where in the world is Didier?

We were so exhausted (not having slept one wink on the plane) and could hardly keep our eyes open. Jim even dozed on a park bench once and jolted awake when he started to fall off the bench!

Finally Didier arrived and we enter the building where our apartment is. Lo and behold there is now a sign on the elevator that says it no longer is working and Didier says we need to use the stairs! No way am I climbing 7 floors of stairs. So Jim and I take our chance and ride the elevator up to the apartment.

Our apartment is a lady’s home. When she is out of the country she rents it out. Didier is her friend and does this for her if he doesn’t have anything available which he didn’t. We paid a fair price for this and I guess that should have been our clue that something wasn’t quite right.

The apartment is totally French. Tiny, small, old, and cluttered. I can take the tiny, old, and small but the dirt and clutter is a lot to take in. Didier is apologetic but nevertheless he has done a nice job of trying to get it into shape for us. We are so tired that we don’t care and the bed looks clean and inviting. He spent about an hour visiting with us, telling us where the markets are, the best restaurants, how to get to Versailles (12 minutes his way an hour the way we went last time). Finally he left and we began unpacking.

Around 6:30 we had both had it. We didn’t care if we ate. We didn’t care about the dust bunnies (french at least) under foot. We didn’t care if there were bread crumbs all over the counter. We didn’t care if there is no shower curtain in the bathroom and how are we going to keep the water from going everywhere. We didn’t care that there are lights hooked up that would make my father’s jerry rigging look proud and extension cords drape from here to there. We just wanted to go to sleep and that’s what we did! Print this post