Day 11: Leaving Paris, Warner Brother's Studio tour

The last thing I remembered last night was all of us agreeing on the time to get up in order to catch our train at the Gard du Nor (5:30,) and the first thing I remember this morning was Victoria saying, "WHAT?! It's 6 o'clock?!?" Apparently, Galen's alarm had malfunctioned, and we had to fit 15 minutes into about 5 or 8. We scrambled like madmen and after 3 minutes we were ready to head out. Quickest departure we've ever made before. It's incredible what you can do when you have to! Got to the front desk, checked out fine, and practically ran the desolate streets to the train station, which, by design, was close by our hotel. We went through the first border security check and the British lady working there got a bit confused about who was who in our group and gave us a little trouble. But, she eventually got things straightened out and we proceeded to the French border patrol agent guy. I watched as Galen handed him his passport and he stared at him, stared at the passport, stared at him again, until he was satisfied that the picture on the passport was of the person standing before him. He was quite thorough with his Stare Down tactic. It didn't help that he was a little older with furry eyebrows that wagged down at you when he stared. Once Victoria had passed inspection and he stamped her passport it was my turn. Here's how the exchange went for me.

Me:

"Bonjour Monsieur."

Border Patrol:

"Bonjour, Madam."

picks up passport, mumbles something. Looks at me, looks at the passport. Looks at me. Smiles.

"Vous et....rouge." does a motion of his hand around his face. (you are...red.)

Me:

"uh....quoi?"

Boder Patrol:

"Red.....la soliel? (the sun?)

Me:

"Oh, oui, oui." (did I LOOK sunburned?!?)

Smiles, hands me my passport, and off I go. Basically, it would seem that he told me I looked redder now than in my passport photo. I looked up how the French use the word "rouge" and it can be used to mean ruddy or tanned. So, what I like to think is not that I look like I got sunburned, but that I was more tan now than in my Passport picture. After all, my picture was taken in May, well before I went to the beach. I may never know exactly what he meant, but it makes for a good story. 

I still choose to think he meant I look "tan."

;)

We got on our train and sat near a tiny little lady with short blond hair and black rimmed glasses. Galen, being the gentleman that he is, offered to put her suitcase up on the rail for her, which was literally bigger than she was. She let him, and Victoria had heard her speaking a language that sounded like French, and so started a converstation with her in French. Turns out, she is originally from Italy, though lives in England right now. She not only speaks perfect French, English, and Italian, but also, of all things, Japanese. She actually has a PHD in Japanese and teaches that language at Cambridge. In other words, this lady was totally awesome. We talked for about half the train ride with her about lots of things. She asked us about ourselves and we asked about her and just generally had a pleasant conversation. When we told her about our Japanese tour of the lake district, she got a good laugh out of that. We then started to tell her how some of the people in Scotland were hard to understand even though they speak English. She agreed, as she had taught at one of the towns near the border and said it was indeed hard to understand them.

At this point, the little British gentleman sitting opposite us on the other side of the train jumped in and said, "I have been an Englishman all my life and I still can't understand the Scots." We talked with him for a bit too. He currently resides in Lyon, but travels to home to London occasionally, having lived in France for a decade. He kindly offered me his British Expat newspaper to read, which I did gladly. It was so much better than the other ones I had gotten. Better content and more decent overall. For example, the last paper I got (the London Daily Telegraph) had a picture of one of the models from the London Fashion week in possibly the most revealing dress I had ever seen, smack dab in the middle of the front cover. This dilemma had only one solution: the ballpoint pen. I filled in the "gaps," so to speak, added some fabric here and there, and by the end of 5 minutes she had a nice little a-line ballgown, complete with a necklace made of black pears and a few hairbows. It looked nice, and I have photographic proof of my creation, as Galen snapped a picture of me reading it. 

Anyway, we got off the train and back into English-land! We all agreed it was nice to be back in an English speaking country, even though we had such an amazing time in Paris and enjoyed the language barrier challenge. I just knew I was going to accidentally say "Bojour, Comment Ca va? to the little Indian lady working the exchange places where we exchanged our leftover Euros. Thankfully, I remembered myself and said "Hello" instead. 

We got back to flat sweet flat, and rested and relaxed for an hour or two before we set off for the tour of the sets where Warner Brother's filmed the Harry Potter movies. It's fairly new and has only been open since April, and Victoria wanted particularly to go see it while we are here, so we happily tagged along. I haven't seen but 2 of the movies and don't really know the story line of the series, but it was still quite enjoyable and amazing to see the sets. The tour really made me appreciate all the time and hard work that goes into making a movie, and all the little touches that go seemingly unnoticed. All the unnoticed bits were there, though, with the newspapers created especially for the films on display along with the animatronic animals that took countless hours to sculpt and program. It was also fun to hear the designers and sculptors talk about their experiences creating the sets and costumes. We also tried Butterbeer, a drink from the books that tastes essentially like a melted butterscotch candy. SO good!

We enjoyed a nice dinner at the cafe there and then headed back to our good ol' flat. I'm very attached to it, if you couldn't tell already. We face timed with our families, which was great. I sure do miss them, even though I am having a fantastic time here.

I think that you reach a point on every trip, no matter the duration, where you are both excited about the rest of your trip; thoroughly enjoying your remaining time, but juxtaposed with that, you are also excited about  and looking forward to the prospect of heading home. This trip has been better than I could have ever dreamed and I am so thankful for the time we have had here thus far!

Okay, so on to a new idea:

Things I Saw in a British Newspaper

"Should I Send Her to School or Off to Play Pooh Sticks?"

"Even Labour Supporters No Longer Believe That Millibands is Up To the Job."

"NHS Patients Risk of Dying Double That of Patients in US."

"I Was Part of the Brownie Macho Cabal, admits Balls."