27/08/07

Today after sleeping much better than I did the previous night and with a less puffy eye (a Pharmacist told me to dab some alcohol stuff on it and take the piercing out – but the piercest told me never to put alcohol in it – so I just left it and it got better – yeh!) I hit the town at about a quarter to nine.First stop was some markets that I found out about on the internet that were described as colourful (watch out for pickpockets) and very busy by the afternoon. I saw some funky African pants and asked how much they were – an old black man plugged 25 into his calculator – I went to walk off and he asked me to type in what I was willing to pay – I plugged in 10, he said 22, then wanted me to make a higher offer, I still undecided if I actually wanted them went to walk off and he capitulated and said he would accept 10 euro – so that’s how I got my funky African pants. I also bought some socks that are quite plain, but cheap and made in Portugal.I had a baguette and Rockafort cheese in a lovely park outside the French military museum and then I went inside and had a look at guns, armour and Napoleons tomb – by this time I was starting to get knackered and the wastefulness of the world wars didn’t really make me all that happy - just as I didn’t make a French stripper happy less than an hour later… (Surely one of the best segues ever!) I got a photo of the Moulin Rouge and when I was walking back down the street a middle aged lady said to me ‘excuse me mister’ and when you are in a place that doesn’t speak your language you tend to pay attention when you hear it. She spoke a mixture of French and English from then on – but the gist of it went like this:‘Would you like to come in to see a strip show?’‘Oh no, thankyou anyway’ I say‘let me just show you the price’ she sys as she grabbed my hand and leads me into the foyer and draws a 20 on a piece of paper‘no thanks’ I say again‘Ahh but for you I’ll make it 10 euro and you will have a drink and you can stay for as long as you want’‘That’s very kind of you’ I say ‘but I’ll have to pass on it this time’‘Alright five euro’ she says‘no thanks’‘well come in for a quick look’At this moment I’m thinking ‘This will make a pretty good story, and I’ve never been into a strip joint before and its not like they are going to show anything serious if I’m not paying, so I say ‘yeah ok’Inside a pretty girl in a green dress takes me into a dimly lit room with lots of lounges and we sit down together‘So what is your name?’ she says in a thick French accent‘Justin’ I reply trying to sound confident, although I’m clearly on edge, having never talked to someone who would get naked if I asked her to. ‘What’s yours?’‘Segolene’ (it wasn’t actually this, but it was typically French, I’ve just forgotten) ‘where are you from?’‘Australia’‘Kangaroos!’ - a typically French responseWe both laugh – although mine is probably higher pitched and more girly than hers‘so I’ll tell you what could happen, you can have a drink and I’ll dance for you’‘ahh no thanks’‘don’t you like me?’‘Nah it’s not that, I’m sure you do your job just fine – I err, don’t believe in sex before marriage and that sort of stuff and I don’t drink alcohol’‘There will be no sex and you can have an orange juice’‘I think I’ll give it a miss still’‘Well I guess it’s goodbye then’ she said making a sad face‘Yeah goodbye – and good luck with it all’ I said and got up leaving Segolene sitting on the lounge, said ‘merci’ to the door lady on the way out, and tried really hard not to have a satisfied look on my face as I walked back onto the street. So that was a pretty crazy French experience indeed.After getting my stuff from the hostel I headed to the Nord train station where I helped a guy who spoke English find where his train was leaving from – go me! Master of European travel! Then I found out that my mobile refuses to start up. Last night I charged it on a portable battery charger that I got from Emma – but I think that it might have over powered the battery as it was connected to the phone all night. I’m not too sure of the long term consequences yet of not having a phone – but I do know that I can’t text Keisha who I met on the plane coming over here. She lives in France and I was hoping to meet up with her, but previously when I have tried to contact her the number hasn’t worked, but I just realised that it was because I didn’t put the 03 in front of it because I’m calling from an English SIM card – hmm there is no point guessing the consequences – I’m sure it’ll all work out fine.I’m sharing a train cabin now with a German girl who just left her boyfriend, a German couple (although the bloke has a union jack on his pants hmm) and a French guy who is standing outside in the hall – they all look pretty young so hopefully it’ll be a good trip – I might just have to see if they speak English. Random notes– the French and Europeans in general seem to love the Kiwis – especially the All blacks. In an Adidas store there were heaps of All black posters, displays and shirts.– I have seen a substantial amount of Aussie road sign window shades and stickers – I guess that’s how we are represented.Orevoui France and Guten tag Germany!