The arrival

Camille en France

 I am currently sitting in the lobby of the Hotel Victoria, feeding off of the internet hot spot I found here this morning. It is hard to believe we have only been here for a day and a half – the group has already adjusted to life à Paris, which, let me tell you, is unbelievably good. 

But let me start from the beginning. I flew alone to Paris from New York, planning to meet the group there shortly after my arrival (they flew together from Logan airport). I strolled through security floating on a sense of independence, which quickly dissipated when I walked into one of Newark’s international terminals to find swarms of people moving in seemingly random directions and obscuring my view of gate 42. I fought my way through and plopped down on one of the airplane benches to read and people watch for an hour before…

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