France Day 5
The van lurched and I wake up, neck aching from being bent in an odd position. If there is one universal, it is rush hour. I am Paris bound, small dark orange-red flowers dot the foliage to our sides. Lavender and white join the sight. I am half awake with my head against the window fingering the smoother rubberized edge of the windowblade.
Two nights ago I had a dream that I lived in a big house with a tower. I shared this house with Sam and with Kathy Fischer from WisKino. Rob lived in the tower. In the tower was a giant ornate metal ball that Rob would roll around in and Kathy was always trying to get into the tower, though I tried not to let her. The dream I had last night was stranger, but I don't remember the details.
Back in the van, we are running late, hence running into rush hour. There are toll stops which only add to the traffic problem. There is a clear and concise reason we are running late.
This morning, as I woke up in my hotel bed and noticed that Sam was not there, he was waking up in a hospital bed with an IV in his arm attached to a bag of 0.9% Sodium Chloride.
As we drive to Paris we pass a control box on the median strip. It is lying open, circuit boards exposed to the elements. There is less and less green now. We are just approaching the outskirts of Paris.
When I woke up sans Sam, I went down stairs and had breakfast. Eggs, cheese, tea and tea biscuits. I decide that he must have gone home with Pascal. I go back to sleep to wait for him to get home so we can start packing. At noon, our hosts come in to say it is time to pack. Now I am pissed. I rush to the bathroom to use the shower that in France is referred to as the Douche. I pack all my stuff and bring it down stairs to the door. I wait a bit for Sam to arrive. He must be damn hung over to sleep in this late. I pack his stuff and clean up the room a bit before the hosts take over. They pack up the three magnum bottles of Chinon wine we bought the previous day for a vertical wine tasting in a white plastic shopping back filled with newspaper. I leave for the Maison des Associations to meet up with the rest of the Kinoites to tell them that Sam and Pascal sill aren't back.
We are now entering the outer city of Paris. It is all newer construction and looks kind-of like Milwaukee, except that that graffiti is all in French.
I arrive, and Pascal is there. Sam is not. She explains that at 6am, he walked her home and that was the last anyone saw of him. They all thought he had gone back to our hotel room. Everyone panics about now. We walk to the nearest police outpost and after 15 minutes that feels like an hour, they inform us that he is in a hospital in the neighboring town. A brief ride through the countryside and we arrive at the hospital. It has neon signs all around and there are mounds of dirt just randomly strewn around places. It looks so, non-clinical.
Sam is standing near the entrance ready to leave, though we don't notice him until we try to hail a passing nurse. His clothes are different. The T-Shirt that he had been wearing beneath his button-down shirt was gone. The last thing he remembers of the night was drinking a bug swig of the West Indies rum that he had joked was from "The Americas". The doctors and nurses didn't speak English, so the details of his arrival at the hospital remain a mystery. We tell him he was last seen giving Pascal a walk home. He says "well, that was nice of me," and get in the car back to Chinon. We pile into the van. As we drive, I put in my headphones and drift off to sleep.
We enter into a tunnel and everything turns a jaundice shade under the tunnel lights. When we emerge, we are greeted by skyscrapers. The green foliage from before for is now totally replaced by stone and cement. A ridiculously small car drives past us in the right lane. It looks like an already small euro-car with the entire back seat truncated.
We arrive at the hostile. It is squalor compared to where we have been staying. Pizza for dinner and then we go to bed.
Two nights ago I had a dream that I lived in a big house with a tower. I shared this house with Sam and with Kathy Fischer from WisKino. Rob lived in the tower. In the tower was a giant ornate metal ball that Rob would roll around in and Kathy was always trying to get into the tower, though I tried not to let her. The dream I had last night was stranger, but I don't remember the details.
Back in the van, we are running late, hence running into rush hour. There are toll stops which only add to the traffic problem. There is a clear and concise reason we are running late.
This morning, as I woke up in my hotel bed and noticed that Sam was not there, he was waking up in a hospital bed with an IV in his arm attached to a bag of 0.9% Sodium Chloride.
As we drive to Paris we pass a control box on the median strip. It is lying open, circuit boards exposed to the elements. There is less and less green now. We are just approaching the outskirts of Paris.
When I woke up sans Sam, I went down stairs and had breakfast. Eggs, cheese, tea and tea biscuits. I decide that he must have gone home with Pascal. I go back to sleep to wait for him to get home so we can start packing. At noon, our hosts come in to say it is time to pack. Now I am pissed. I rush to the bathroom to use the shower that in France is referred to as the Douche. I pack all my stuff and bring it down stairs to the door. I wait a bit for Sam to arrive. He must be damn hung over to sleep in this late. I pack his stuff and clean up the room a bit before the hosts take over. They pack up the three magnum bottles of Chinon wine we bought the previous day for a vertical wine tasting in a white plastic shopping back filled with newspaper. I leave for the Maison des Associations to meet up with the rest of the Kinoites to tell them that Sam and Pascal sill aren't back.
We are now entering the outer city of Paris. It is all newer construction and looks kind-of like Milwaukee, except that that graffiti is all in French.
I arrive, and Pascal is there. Sam is not. She explains that at 6am, he walked her home and that was the last anyone saw of him. They all thought he had gone back to our hotel room. Everyone panics about now. We walk to the nearest police outpost and after 15 minutes that feels like an hour, they inform us that he is in a hospital in the neighboring town. A brief ride through the countryside and we arrive at the hospital. It has neon signs all around and there are mounds of dirt just randomly strewn around places. It looks so, non-clinical.
Sam is standing near the entrance ready to leave, though we don't notice him until we try to hail a passing nurse. His clothes are different. The T-Shirt that he had been wearing beneath his button-down shirt was gone. The last thing he remembers of the night was drinking a bug swig of the West Indies rum that he had joked was from "The Americas". The doctors and nurses didn't speak English, so the details of his arrival at the hospital remain a mystery. We tell him he was last seen giving Pascal a walk home. He says "well, that was nice of me," and get in the car back to Chinon. We pile into the van. As we drive, I put in my headphones and drift off to sleep.
We enter into a tunnel and everything turns a jaundice shade under the tunnel lights. When we emerge, we are greeted by skyscrapers. The green foliage from before for is now totally replaced by stone and cement. A ridiculously small car drives past us in the right lane. It looks like an already small euro-car with the entire back seat truncated.
We arrive at the hostile. It is squalor compared to where we have been staying. Pizza for dinner and then we go to bed.
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