For most, being lost in a foreign country is a terrifying ordeal. You don’t know where you are, you may not speak the language, and you are unsure of how to set yourself back on track. It can be even more frustrating because it takes time away from your plans and itinerary. But, if you allow it, being lost can offer you a truly unique experience.
Almost as soon as I arrived in Charles du Gaul airport I felt lost. It has to be one of my least favorite airports. The layout isn’t very instinctive, the signs are not clear, and it’s my belief that the “snobby” French stereotype was developed here.
I found the train terminal and started to read the signs about buying a ticket. I had no idea where to begin. I stood there reading the information over and over. I checked my maps. I studied my itinerary. Nothing was quite adding up. I thought I had planned out the details so well, but this train ticket purchasing process was proving me wrong.
A man, who surely pitied the “lost American girl”, asked if I needed help. I shared with him my destination from the train and asked if he knew which ticket I should purchase. He ordered the ticket for me. Then he turned and said to follow him and he would get me on the right train. Although wary of the man so eager to help a “lost American girl”, I was grateful for his help. The terminal was crowded and I knew not to let him lead me too far astray.
When we boarded the same train and I hurried to find a single available seat. He did come to find me before his stop to make sure I knew where my stop was. I was relived he would not be around to follow me all the way to my hotel.
Having had the train ride to study my maps, I was so confident upon exiting the train. I headed right out of the station, left at the first road, and then the hotel….the hotel…where was the hotel? I pulled out my maps again. “No, no I did it right. But wait, the street names are very wrong. OK, maybe I’ll head back to the station and start over.” I did this four times, each time starting off in a different direction from the station. Finally, I picked the direction I was most confident in and kept walking.
Eventually, I started to ask people for directions. One woman said I was on the right path, but I had a long way to go. Another man had no idea where my destination was. A bartender pulled out a map and said I was in the wrong area altogether. So, I just kept walking.
I ventured into one very hip neighborhood. The streets were narrow and old, but the people were young and stylish. There were no tourists, no franchise stores, and not even any cars. I noticed myself smiling at everyone. I stopped to look in window fronts. I even seemed to have a bounce in my step. I’d discovered the real Paris. This is where people actually live. There are no five star views of the Eiffel Tower, there are no expensive cafés on wide sidewalks, and I was absolutely the only tourist. But people were friendly, the scene was beautiful, and it felt real.
About twenty minutes further in my walk, street names became familiar. A few more turns and I found my hotel! When I walked in to my room, my friend who’d I’d planned to meet up with was already there. She helped me in to the room with my bags and said “where have you been, I expected you over an hour ago.” In response, I smiled and said, “oh, I just got lost in the sights, walking around.”
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