|Last day in San Sebastian|
On June 6th, I took a train from San Sebastian to Hendaye, France. I transferred to another train to Paris that would take 6 hours. A couple of people helped me carry my bags up and down the stairs. Someone even walked me to the hostel. I was too exhausted to do anything so I just stayed in the room. I made the occasional trip to McDonald's to get something to drink or eat. Because of the language barrier, I ended up ordering something that I didn't want. Oh well, I mostly wanted to use the internet.
The next day I took the metro to a guesthouse in a small town called Aulnay-sois-bois. My flight was scheduled to leave at 8am on Friday, so I wanted to be as close to the CDG airport as possible. The journey to the guesthouse was miserable. I first had to lug all my bags up and down the stairs, because there were no elevators. I fell over my bags a couple of times and missed a couple of trains, because I couldn't make it to the doors. At one of the stations a woman took pity on me and helped me. She stayed with until I arrived at the main station that would take me to Aulnay-sois-bois.
When I arrived, I followed the unclear directions of the guesthouse owner. I took a bus to the stop in her directions then I was completely lost. I walked up and down the same road for maybe 30 minutes. Then I a saw a school guard and asked for help. He didn't speak English nor did he recognize the name of the street so he sent me to a corner store. The store owner did not speak English, but he pointed me in the general direction of the street. Things were going well until it started to rain. I became soaked. I dragged my bags up one street, and I did not recognize any of the names. The sidewalks weren't paved and my bags were damaged so I couldn't walk very fast to escape the rain. I stopped several times to rest and try to find shelter from the rain. It was hopeless until a little boy passed me and then came back. I believe that he was in his first year of English, because his words were limited. I showed him the address on my iphone, and he took one of my bags and led the way. He walked with me for about 15 minutes until we finally arrived to the street. The boy then went home as I made my way to find the number of the house. It was still a couple of blocks until I arrived. I was furious when I arrived, because I realized that I couldn't made it quicker when I saw the bridge where the bus stop was located.
The owner's husband showed me to my room and I unpacked my stuff to let it air dry. Afterwards, I walked the town, ate dinner, and went back so that I could rest for my morning flight to Reykjavik, Iceland. The trip felt like a waste. I didn't even buy a postcard, because I was stressed and too tired to remember. That just means that I have to make my way back one day.