I survived my long, long layover in Heathrow and went onto Paris with no difficulty. I called and got my ride when I got to baggage claim, as I was told. I waited a while for my bags, but lo, none came! Then I decided to leave. Unfortunately for me, the address I was given was entirely wrong; I was in the middle of Paris with no luggage and no idea where I was supposed to go. Also it seems I have a mental block when it comes to using foreign phones, so it took forever to get in touch with the director of the program.
Then I got to spend the day with the others in the program, most of whom had slept many hours the previous night (more about them later). My luggage didn't wind up coming until this afternoon after I had already left for Parisian wanderings.
Now, my wireless decided it's not going to work, so I can't spend too long on here. There is much more to come on this story: I hope you're all waiting breathlessly for the details, because they are long and torturous. But! There is a happy ending. I am finally showered rested and able to read Perez should I choose to do so. A bientot!
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