MY #FRENCHFUSION ADVENTURES: Arrival Bordeaux 2

I can’t help but notice “Mr. Lonely” in my far left corner looking at me but am not one to usually start up a conversation; I like to observe for a moment. Here comes this sweet little cutie run past me, Awwwww, I just love babies and cute ones at that. His Mum ran after him and I truly loved that “mama chasing baby thingy” and deep there in my mind, I reaffirmed my choice to be a MOTHER, a very good mother (I wanna be a Mamma and the bestest one to walk the earth “hey kids to come, that includes spanking, just so you know”).

Then enters “Mrs. Hot Red America”… definitely smells like a tourist, But that Red was HOOOTTTT, accentuating her golden hair, I couldn’t help but say “Good morning” and of course I got a smile and a response, she got everyone looking at her.

Boarded and I slept all through that flight. On arrival at Paris CDG, I knew I was in for a not so funny journey. I have this reputation of being a lone traveler but I usually get local flights booked, cabs booked like pre-book everything before I set out, but this time I wanted to experience how to just navigate without any booked pick-ups and drop-offs.

Now this is why it’s not so funny… Over the years I have grown to have lots of friends, acquaintances, colleagues, people you just love and those you love to love and not forgetting my greatest fans the #Godwinonuelugang. In Nigeria, you don’t travel abroad without shopping for every single person who will notice that you are not in town, it’s a taboo not to bring something. Candies will be appreciated. So, imagine me pulling bags of souvenirs for these my dear ones. (I should have waited to do all that shopping in France but just wanted to concentrate on my food adventures here, then the duty free perfumes would come to the rescue on my departure) but I guess it wasn’t a fantastic idea after all.

I have a vivid description of all my stops and navigation but just to be double sure, I picked up the free map at the airport, took some time to study it, I got confused the more, then I knew my plan of city trotting and just doing it like the locals might not work. TAXI!!!!.....

Rastaman Taxi??... Yeah, the cab man is Rasta. I don’t mind, as long as he gets me to my destination. I want to catch a train to Bordeaux, I said after asking him if he spoke a little English because my French these days, I only understand in context after breaking down all familiar words and tenses in my brain. Rastaman claimed to understand English “un peu” and with his little English he convinced me that he would take me to the “Gare” to catch the next train to Bordeaux and it will cost me 50 to 52 euro (I honestly would have paid far less if I do this thing like the locals but what do I do with these bags? Here is me wishing I had a magic wand, send the bags before me to Naija, whilst I just hang a rucksack and bounce through the “rue’s” of France). I thought of convenience, I was tired of these bags even before the journey started.

To be continued.....