I’m reading on a bench in the sun, as tourists around me wait in anticipation to enter a museum; a museum that was supposed to open at 2 p.m. It’s now 2:30 p.m.
Living in France has been filled with delays like this along with strikes, holidays and erratic business hours. Every task here seems to take five more steps than the equivalent back in the U.S. Even with the ostensibly simple task of doing laundry, I have to go to reception (which is only open six hours a day) hope that the one lady who controls 300 student rooms is actually there, buy my fake money laundry coins with real money coins, then wait for one of two washers to become empty (which they never are).
Continue reading “Welcome to France! (Except During the Lunch Break)”