“I love Paris in the winter when it drizzles” kept repeating in my mind as I huddled in the shelter of Alèsia station, protected from the deluge that gave no signs of abating. Commuters jostled past me, oblivious to my plight as I tried to read the now sodden map. ‘Stuff it!’ I said to no one in particular. I dragged my suitcase to the ticket sellers window and asked directions, while I pointed to a street on the map. She averted her gaze and slammed the ticket window shut.