France 2nd day
France 2nd day
I left the hotel and walked on the morning road in Paris, France.
Wearing short sleeves and shorts, I walked to various places while spreading the map.
However, France was colder than I expected, so I was looking for a clothing store.
It was colder than it was in the morning.
So I asked a passerby at the clothing store on the roadside.
The first person I asked was a homeless white old woman sitting on a bench.
I called out to her.
Then avoid me to avoid it.
I felt the reality of France in a homeless white old woman I had never seen.
The next person I spoke to was a middle-aged uncle carrying a backpack.
I asked him in English, but he didn’t seem to be able to speak English.
And I had no choice but to incorporate gestures to appeal to the clothes.
And the moment he touched his clothes and told him he was looking for a place to shop, he knew in English that he was Excuse Me and left.
He misunderstood me as a homeless foreigner.
I experienced a second refusal from the French.
Also rejected by Kevin
I went to France to study art and meet Kevin.
However, I sent an email to Kevin and did not receive a reply.
I did tell Kevin to go to France, but I didn’t get a reply.
I’ve been asking about his address before, but he didn’t respond.
He told me to give me my address when I arrived in France.
However, when I arrived in France, I lost contact.
It was rejected by three Frenchmen.
Anyway, I searched for a cheap hotel while sightseeing a little.
There was an Italian street town in Paris.
That was my final place of residence.
I found a cheap apartment for $ 30 a night and lived there for 6 days.
And I took a picture with the hotel owner and sent a letter and a picture to the hotel.
However, the letter from the hotel was not answered.
I experienced the taste of hard water in France.
For me, who is accustomed to soft water, hard water was a drink with an eerie texture.
I bought biscuits, bread and ham every day there.
I remember that the three items cost 1 euro.
During the day, I used to go out to Paris and get used to it at 3:00 pm and return to the hotel.
In conclusion, traveling alone is boring.
The trip to France was never a good trip.
For me, the world of France was certainly a space of a different dimension, and I want to go there again.
However, he was disappointed with the postoperative hips, worries about returning to work, and Kevin’s betrayal.
Now that I don’t believe in others easily, I reflect on my past philosophical and non-religious spirit.
However, I have good memories of shopping at a supermarket in France every morning.
I was looking at a French Western-style building while eating biscuits in a French park.
So I passed by various passers-by, but it was still boring.