Au revoir, Paris.

And hello, London!

I woke up in Paris this morning. Now it's time for bed, and I'm in London. Weird. Though I seriously enjoyed our few days in France, it was so refreshing to actually be able to read signs once we stepped off the Eurostar this afternoon.

Speaking of, I highly recommend the train from Paris to London. Super easy. 

Guess what's happening here next summer.

Something to note, though, is that if you travel through France or the UK, be prepared for a LOT of stairs. Elevators (lifts) are few and far between. I mean, seriously, what are you supposed to do if you're in a wheelchair...or lugging a 50lb suitcase?? In other words, travel lightly. Don't be like me. Unless you're moving here. In which case, it's TOTALLY APPROPRIATE for you to be dragging a giant bag up the stairs, and no, people staring, I'm not that girl who brings 17 different outfits for a weekend getaway.

Sorry about that.

Anyway, we took the Tube and another little train into Kingston. After that, we had planned to walk to our hotel, since it wasn't too far, according to a nice man who gave us directions. However, that man came half-jogging back to us a block later to suggest a bus line. That ended up being perfect, since our day pass covered the fare.

The really helpful bus driver dropped us off about a block from our hotel, though the stop wasn't technically part of his usual route.

And now we're here. And I've got enrollment (spelled enrolment, here) tomorrow. I've got butterflies like it's the first day of kindergarten. What if I get lost? What if I everybody hates me? Where do I go? What do I wear?

You know, the usual.

Wish me luck!
  

What we saw.

A snapshot (or ten) or the last two days:

I can't believe we were able to see so much in such little time. It's been lovely.

We leave for London tomorrow.

 

Paris: A lesson in humility

I don't even know where to begin with this one. When we left CDG (which wasn't as terrible as I expected from reading reviews), we had really no problems getting to the train station that was supposed to take us into Paris from the airport. The biggest issue was our semi-large suitcases (only one each, though!), which made it a tad difficult to get through the very narrow turnstiles. Still, in no time, we were on the train and headed to Gare du Nord, which was our first stop on the 17-step process of getting to our hotel (okay, like 4, but it was rough).

That itty bitty train started to get way crowded, and soon my mom's suitcase was pushed up right up against a woman across from her. It only proceeded to get more crowded, and of course, everyone wanted to get off at Gare du Nord. There was no way my mom was going to get out, especially with that suitcase. Out of nowhere, the aforementioned squished-by-the-suitcase woman had convinced another random girl (whom she did not actually know) to grab my mom's suitcase and carry it off the train for her. We were super grateful. But she didn't stop there.

She asked us (in English, PTL!) where we were going. We pulled out our lengthy, convoluted directions. She took one look at those, shook her head, and said, "Oh no. With these big bags? Too complicated. Follow me, it's better for you." Then she grabbed my mom's suitcase, once again, and we followed her.

We followed her for the next hour or so, down hallways, through (and, occasionally, over) turnstiles, and up many, many stairs. Every time we got to a big staircase, she'd grab someone to help us grab them. I seriously have never encountered that many helpful strangers. I think my suitcase was carried by at least 4 other people. As they heaved it up those stairs, I kept wanting to apologize for its weight, and to explain myself. No, I didn't overpack for a little vacation...that was my whole life for the next year! But I didn't speak the language, so I just blushed and accepted their assistance.

Something that is important to mention is that this woman had to go pick up her kids at 4:30. This was all happening around 3:30, and by assisting us, she was not only going out of her way but was also using a good amount of time -- something she couldn't really afford to waste on us clueless Americans.

Ultimately, she got us to a bus stop, told the driver to tell us which stop to get off at, turned and left. She wouldn't take anything we offered her to thank her for her help, except for verbal appreciation. She simply told us that she was happy to help, and then said goodbye. We didn't even get her name.

I'll just call her a blessing. Our own Parisian angel.

We got off the bus when we were told, but then weren't quite sure where our hotel was from there. We found a McDonald's with free wifi (which, incidentally, they call "weefee") and looked it up. Once we thought (key word) we'd figured it out, we pressed onward, dragging out suitcases behind us.

After stopping and asking for help another two times, we finally arrived. Sweaty (sweaty, sweaty), bleeding (my mom ripped up her hand) and sucking air, we checked in. I'm sure the clerk was more than just a little alarmed at the sight of us, but she smiled sweetly and gave us our key. We climbed one at a time into the smallest elevator ever, had a ton of trouble with the lock, and finally made it inside our room to collapse on our bed before venturing out to find food...since I hadn't eaten since the dinner the day before. The whole thing took approximately 4 hours. It should have taken 2, max. But we made it. Finally.

Hello, little room. We are so, so happy to see you.

The moral of the story is this: French people don't hate Americans as much as you hear. Not any that we encountered anyway.

And God is faithful to get us where we need to be. But just a heads up that it could involve complete helplessness, His provision, and a big lesson in humility to get there.

Getting here.

Here are the highlights from my Dallas - Paris adventure:

1. Linda -- I was lucky enough to be seated next to her on my flight from Dallas to D.C. She made me laugh almost the whole way. 

2. Icelandair -- What a funny little airline! The plane was pretty much covered with Iceland tidbits. From the lullaby on my pillow to the language/etiquette tips on the seats, I learned more than I ever expected to about the country (including the fact that the prime minister is listed in the phone book, and about half the country's population believes in elves). Also, the flight attendants pretty much looked like Nordic Barbies...they smiled a lot, but still managed to have an expression that convinced me I should not mess with them. That's partially why I don't have a picture. I was scared to ask. That, and it probably would have been creepy.

You might think this would've helped me sleep. But you could be wrong.

I'm sorry to say I wasn't brave enough to apply this information during my hour in Iceland.

3. Night flights -- I am absolutely no good at sleeping on planes. A handful of half hour segments were the best I could do. Lame.

The whole thing was relatively smooth and pretty easy. Then I left Charles de Gaulle and it went downhill quick. But more on that later.

  

Leave.

"And so my prayer is that your story will have involved some leaving and some coming home, some summer and some winter, some roses blooming out like children in a play. My hope is your story will be about changing, about getting something beautiful born inside of you about learning to love a woman or a man, about learning to love a child, about moving yourself around water, around mountains, around friends, about learning to love others more than we love ourselves, about learning oneness as a way of understanding God. We get one story, you and I, and one story alone. God has established the elements, the setting and the climax and the resolution. It would be a crime not to venture out, wouldn't it? 

It might be time for you to go. It might be time to change, to shine out. 

I want to repeat one word for you: 
Leave. 

Roll the word around on your tongue for a bit. It is a beautiful word, isn't it? So strong and forceful, the way you have always wanted to be. And you will not be alone. You have never been alone. Don't worry. Everything will still be here when you get back. It is you who will have changed." 


-Donald Miller, Through Painted Deserts


   

Feels like home.

I love Baylor.

I must have said that a hundred times today. Since we're flying out of DFW, I got to spend today in Waco, walking around campus and marveling at how much it's changed in the short year I've been gone. But it still feels like home. I also had the privilege of hanging out with my brother and visiting with a handful of friends.

What a sweet, sweet time. There was so much laughing involved. And so many encouraging words. I seriously have the best friends in the world.

So thanks to Jamin, Lacey, Austin, Alexis, Phil and Adam for making my last full day (and a half) in the States an absolute joy. I'm going to miss you all so, so much.

I'll miss you too, Pat Neff--especially when you're green.

   

My bags are packed. I'm ready to go.

I don't really mind packing. I kind of enjoy it, actually. It combines several of the things I love, like making lists and being strategic (yes, I'm that girl).

Because of baggage fees, small trains, weak arms, etc., my mom and I are each taking only one suitcase to the UK. (Except I kind of get both of them, since she packed most everything she'd need in her carry on. Thanks mom!) That means one (ish) suitcase for everything I'm expecting to need during my year at Kingston. Granted, I plan on shipping a couple boxes later, but still. It's not much.

But you would not believe how much I've stuffed into those suitcases. I'm gonna look like Mary Poppins when I take everything out of there. It's kind of amazing, if I do say so myself. Unfortunately, my superb packing abilities have led to one tiny little problem: weight.

I'm not allowed more than 50lbs per bag. I could easily fit 70lbs in there. (Okay, maybe that's an exaggeration, but not much of one.) So I've been playing a couple of games I'd like to call, "What Weighs More?" and "Suitcase Shuffle." Packing, weighing, unpacking, prioritizing, repacking, weighing, and on, and on, and on.

But I think I've finally got it right, which is a good thing.

Because I leave tomorrow.