Dijon, the duchess has landed.

Home away from home
A chateau…. not this duchess’ but one not so far away and vastly larger than my closest of an apartment… a duchess can dream can’t she?

Holy Luggage!

So when planning to move to another country for the next year a bit of advice- less is more.  If you have to carry it all from CDG airport to a bus, get to a train station, board said train, and then make it from the train station to an establishment; it is a feat more for Andre the giant, not a lone girl from California with little French speaking abilities finding her way to the heart of Burgundy.  Of course, this did not cross my mind completely (despite some parental advice on my ability to carry the bags… what do they know? I needed my 10 pairs of shoes!!).

But amazingly, despite leaving an ENTIRE suitcase in an elevator in Paris…. this luggage just so you know, was one I had to pay an extra weight limit on… seriously I don’t know how I managed to lose track of it…. it could fit a body inside of it with room to spare. Additionally, this MIA piece of luggage managed to have a wheel blow out in the Gard de Nord train station.  Yes, despite all these things, I managed to make to Dijon.  I have only the sweet people of France to thank for that- whoever said that they are all rude is clueless… some people are rude but the same can be said for Americans as well…. I have met some of them (rude Americans that is).

But to the gentleman at the airport who booked my ticket on the train- thank goodness he was smart enough to say “get the flexible ticket in case you miss the train” boy was he right.  He also said go first class you will need the space for all your luggage. To the other nice gentleman who chased me down at Charles de Guille, who said “Miss! I believe you left a piece of luggage in the elevator.” – that guy is a saint. We go running back to the lift to see it open up and there in the elevator sat my ridiculously huge bag.  “Boy are you lucky…. that never happens!”. Then the guy on the bus- he helped me from the bus to the train station… Seriously, it takes a group of people to get me where I need to be from my parents to getting my luggage to the airport counter to the taxi guy who met me in Dijon to take me to my apartment…. I know he doubted whether the little euro car would fit all the luggage- but he made it work.  The world was working to get me there…. but so were the French.  I made it and so did all my luggage.

The road to French living. This is my street and my new home away from. It is only a pedestrian walkway most of the time…. with the occasional moped.

Luckily, my land lady happen to be there when I arrived…. it all managed to work out.

So after 24 hours of full traveling door to door… I can honestly say- thank goodness for the French or else this Cali duchess may not have made it with all my luggage in tow… next time I would definitely pack lighter and bring a better wine opener (hello? where was the game plan on that one??!).

Now, let the adventure begin.

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