Monday, August 10, 2009

Day 21

I am pissed beyond belief but let's just try to work through this. Shall we?

The Bloody Russian. Yeah this isn't going to help. But let's do it anyway.

I woke up to a girl telling me to get downstairs before the hostel stopped serving breakfast, which was good since I had agreed to meet Eugene and the other one, the two Australians for breakfast. I throw on my people cloths, run down, and meet them. We had a pleasant conversation. Their plan was to travel Europe for six months before they devoted another four years to schooling, college. Which def. made me question US youth. When we go on a major trip A- It's typically after college, and B- It's painstakingly planned. Why and why.

Anyway, after breakfast I attempted to book another night at the such and such hostel. Yet, couldn't since there weren't anymore vacancies. (I should have booked for multiple nights.) I asked if there were any neighboring hostels that could be of use. An old French woman told me yes, that I could try at the Meyerbear Beach Hotel, their sister hostel. And that luck was needed since beds went fast on the day of.

So I left on a hunt for this Meyerbeach place. After getting lost, finding it, carrying my heavy bag up two steep flights of steps, I was told,  "Apologies, no beds," but I could use their free Internet if needed. I sat in front of the computer and had a slight emotional attack. I was in Nice wasting the day on a bed search! Mr. Reception Guy asked if I needed assistance, at which point I said:

Me: "Yes actually yes. I need to stay at a really nice hotel. Know of any?" (This is me in a panic - Throw the plastic at the rabid dog before it gets to me - Sorry just read 'Cujo'.

Mr. Reception: "What do you mean by nice? Five Stars nice?"

Me: "Sure, five stars sounds good." (I started to get excited this could be fun)

Mr. Reception: "Okay let me make some calls to see what can be done."

I checked my e-mail and started to plot further travel destinations. Belgium? Why not? Ten minutes pass.

Mr. Reception: "Okay the such and such will take you." (I don't remember it's name.)

Me: "Is it nice?"

Mr. Reception: "It's very nice. And it's only a five minute walk from here."

Me: "How much?"

Mr. Reception: "340 Euro including tax."

My eyes widened. (I just spent 22 Euro for a bed the prior night.)

Me: "340 is a lot."

Mr. Reception: "You said you wanted something nice. This is really nice."

Me: "Okay, can't we find something a little less nice? I'm sorry. Let me be more specific. I would like nice, but I also have to keep an eye on my budget. Is there something less?"

Mr. Reception got back on the phone and twelve minutes later he summoned my attention to the Canada Inn which would cost 84 Euros. I told him that 84 was much better. He booked the room, all I had to do was show. While I gathered my things Mr. R. asked if I wanted to have a coffee with him. I really wanted to get on with the day, but the man had helped me, so I followed him to the employees only lounge and sat on the dish washer as he prepared the coffee. It was a tad humorous:

"Am I really supposed to be back here?"

He: "Yeah it's fine I'm the only one working here today."

As we chatted, he asked why I was traveling alone as most people did. He told me he was Russian, which surprised me since his accent sounded French. He also said he was into UFC fighting and that he was about to graduate college. Bla bla bla we talked. He could sense I wanted to leave, so he invited me out to drinks later that night. I told him yes to shut him up. Would I go? Who knew? We agreed that he would pick me up at the Canada, but if I didn't want in, I would simply stay out.
The hours that followed were glorious. I ate tasty kebabs for lunch and explored the streets until I came upon a trolley type train. I saw it from across the street, ran over and bought a ticket. It transported me up a mountain to a natural park. The views of the shore line folded something inside myself. (Stirred would be too violent.)

Once back at my hotel I decided to go out with the Russian. What was I going to do at the hotel alone? 

He showed, waited, (I always make them wait) and we were nearly off, but I had to mumble something about how ridiculous it was that we had to turn in the room key before leaving. Mr. Reception heard, and said:

"You can take the key if you want."

Me: "Really?" (Sounding hopeful)

Mr. Reception: "Yes, but we have extra keys of every room. If I really wanted to get into your room and go through your stuff, I could if I wanted." (This was said smugly.)

Me: "In that case you'd better hold on to this." (Attitude as I hand him the key & turn to leave.)

As we step down the stairs I hollered back, "Don't go sniffing my dirty underwear while I'm away." (What?)

~~~~~~~~~~~There has to be a part 2. Jane need sleep.~~~~~~~~~

To be continued.........

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