See Paris and Die

“I love Paris in the autumn 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.

‘Bloody charming! Welcome to Paris,’ I mouthed to the window.

I trudged down the ramp, getting soaked to the bone in the process and scanned the street for a taxi. By now the rain was a solid wall and I could barely see beyond a metre. I must have looked like a drowned waif because a man wheeling a bicycle stopped in front of me and offered to help.

‘Where do you need to go?’ he said in good English.

I waved the sodden map at him and pointed to the street where I’d booked accommodation on Air B&B.

‘It’s not far, but better to take a taxi,’ he said then looked around at the empty rank. ‘I’ll call one for you.’

He waited until it arrived, explained to the driver where I needed to go, then took his leave with a smile and a wave.

Warmed by his gallant act, I started to feel better about my decision to come to Paris.

So starts the adventures of Seanna Rydel ... more to come