I am sitting on the second level of the TGV 5115 looking out the window at the concrete walls of the paris rail station. Sunlight perferates the geometric ceiling. The weather is cool and crisp. The French girl sitting next to me smells of too many cigarettes and a tuna fish bagette. I have been truly welcomed to France.
The only other things is to see dog poop in the streets and a crepe to eat.
The quite rumble of the train is lulling me to sleep. I think a nap while dreaming of the French country side rolling by my window is about to commence.
In love with her life