On getting into the car for my ride back into Paris I looked back there at the back section of the station wagon. This had been more or less my room for over a month. I wouldn’t be sleeping any more back there something that I neither regretted nor felt relieved for. I just wondered if some day in the future I’d look back on the experience with a feeling of romance for car camping. One does look back on past experiences with rosy glasses, you know, or at least I do.
I turned the car on and listened to Carmen The GPS tell me how to get back to Charles de Gaule and a couple hours later I could make out the outline of the Eiffel tower in the distance. I then looked for another one of those Formule 1 motels, the kind I stayed in in Sweden, knowing that that would be the cheapest. I found one but it was a full house. Next door they had a slightly more upscale version for a still reasonable 48 Euros a night. On checking in I noticed that the “upscaleness” consisted of an in-room bath as opposed to the communal down-the-hallway sort but still constructed out of plastic that gives one the sense that you were a bug in a beach bucket.
After my shower I went for a walk and noticed I was in the Arab quarter of town. I ate at a hole in the wall restaurant some lamb kebab with fries. I’ve seen these types of eateries in New York City and some other places where they have the meat roasting on a vertical spit like a yarn loom then they just slice off a portion for you. It was another delicious welcome departure from the usual tuna sandwich I was accustomed to.
Back to the room I emptied out the car and brought it all up into my room for packaging into luggage. I sure had picked up a lot of junk along the way and it was going to be a challenge to stuff it all into the three bags I’d brought with me but eventually I managed the task.
And that was it for the day. I spent the rest of the daylight writing these snippets out, reviewing my pictures and surfing the net at 5 Euros an hour.