It was so nice to come back home to Paris after a week back Florence. I left my car with my ex and Lira my jack Russell. Lira was so happy to be in the car for her it means beach, country and getting out of the city. For me in Paris the car was just something to worry about, with Italian liscence plates parked here and there i always wondered if i would find it in the morning in one peice or even at all. So my trip back home was in the train.
The train left saturday morning before Easter from Florence at 11:27AM and I had to change in Milan. In Milan I found the TGV that went to Paris and boarded it asap. On my car came some real seedy looking people and then a Tibetan monk accompanied by three people. They saw that his seat was right next to the three seedy characters and started walking around asking if someone spoke english so I said i did. The young girl asked me if the car was number 13 and if I could help the monk buy a ticket to go to Bruxelles once we arrived in Paris. I didn't hink twice and said sure. He didn't speak any English or French only Tibetan.
The train ride was teedy some because the guy behind me talked on his cell phone until we reached the French border, about 2 hours and mostly because the creeps that the monk had to sit with were voicing loudly and goofing off so much so that the French guy that controls the tickets had to tell them to turn the music down.
As we approached Paris I realized that it was almost midnight and almost Easter sunday. I started to think that it might be a problem getting a ticket to Bruxelles and what if the next train was in the morning. What would we do with the monk? My boyfriend had called me and I told him that I said I would help to buy a ticket for the monk but it is so hard to imagine until you see it.
We get off the train, the monk and I and walk to the end where my dear Love B. is waiting for me, we haven't seen eachother in a week and it is midnight so you can imagine what we are thinking as we hug eachother hello.
B. tells me that the only way to get a ticket to Bruxelles is to go to gare du Nord and we were at gare de Lyon. So B. says he can sleep on the couch and we all go home with the bus where we have a margherita cocktail and the monk some tisane.
Easter morning with fabuolous weather in Paris we are up at 8.00Am and accompany the monk to gare de Nord and get him on the train. Then we took our bycicles to ride to parc Sceaux with a picnic lunch where we watched falcons and crows and people jogging.
So now i know that Tibetan monks snore too.
