Bonjour Paris!

I'm FINALLY here. Today was a multilingual whirlwind--I left Boston at 8:30 pm, arrived in Reykjavik, Iceland, at 1:40 am (6:40 local time), left at 2:50 am, and arrived in Paris at 6:10 am (around noon in Paris). FYI, Reykjavik looks scarier to pronounce than it is, it's just "rek-ya-vik." Oh, and here's a fun fact about Iceland--during the winter months it has about 4 hours of sunlight per day. Total.

Now I'm tucked away in my cozy little room in the 15th arrondissement. Our apartment is tiny, but so adorable with very edgy, modern decor. My room has one of those beds that you put straps around and fold up into the wall, and thank god it does, because it literally takes up the whole room when it's down. The wallpaper is this awesome stripey deal with different colors, and my window looks out into the courtyard--but I'm going to stop rambling and just post pictures later, that will be more fun for everyone.

My host family is the best. There are young 4 children, who are friendly and smart and extremely forgiving of my broken French. The parents are also wonderful, they have made me feel so welcome and comfortable. They are also really understanding with my languages struggles, and you can bet that there were a lot of them today (3 hours of sleep + 3 countries in 12 hours = me telling stories from the past using the future tense).

After lunch Robert, my host father, took me on a walk to the Eiffel tower with Carla (age 6), Edouard (age 9) and Hugo (age 10). It took us approximately 5 minutes to walk there. Just saying. We went to the park and played a game of soccer, and the most amazing thing happened. I saw all of these tourists walking around with their maps, speaking English, and I realized I was just part of the Parisian scene, yelling in (probably totally wrong) French and kicking a soccer ball with a family. Incroyable. We walked under the tower and along the Seine on our way back to the apartment. Paris is just beautiful--elegant old buildings and cobblestone streets. I haven't quite gotten the feel of the energy yet, but it's much softer than NYC. Much more...European. Go figure.

Ok I promise I won't spew like this all the time, but it seems appropriate on the first day. The clock on my desk reads 22:14, and I should probably get to bed--the first day of Orientation is tomorrow. Although Robert loaned me some French detective novels, and Camus' "La Peste" is sitting on my desk looking intriguing. Perhaps un peu de lecture, then some much-needed sleep. I'm incredibly thankful for safe travel and a wonderful start to my journey. Bonne nuit, mes amis!