Je suis arrivé

So I'm kind of sort of living in France now!  Like, in Europe and everything.  Once I heard back from GeoVisions that I had a host family that accepted me, everything was kind of a whirlwind.  I had about a month and a half before I left, which was, as it turns out, just enough time to take care of everything, without any time left over to freak out.  So that's a good thing.

Until the morning of my trip.  I had just finished up the final few things I had to get done before I left (I said there was JUST enough time to get everything done!), and my friend was coming to pick me up in a few hours, so I would have a bit of a breather before I left.  I thought.  Then I got an email from Expedia saying my connecting flight in Keflavik going to Paris was going to be delayed by 4 hours.  Turns out, there's an airline strike in Iceland.  No biggie, except for the fact that I would arrive in Paris with about 45 minutes between arrival and when my train to Avignon left, with my host mom waiting at the end to pick me up! (Anyone who's flown on a plane knows 45 minutes is probably not enough time to allow for disembarking, customs, retrieving luggage, and wandering through a new airport looking for where you're supposed to go next.  Maybe. But probably not).

Commence mad rearranging of plans.  After looking up train schedules, calling the ticket booking agency, waiting on hold, emailing my host mom that I would be arriving much later than anticipated, etc etc, it all finally came together, with me pulling laundry out of the dryer as my friend pulled into the driveway.  Yikes.

So then I'm off on my adventure!  I thought. ...
Turns out, my flight out of Seattle was delayed by 3 hours.  (Where was the heads up email on THAT change?)  Additionally, in trying to keep myself from running through the airport like a madwoman (been there before), I gave myself pa-LENTY of time before my flight, and got there two hours early.  Um, yay?

But hey, it's not an adventure if the canoe doesn't overturn, and the piranhas don't attack, right?  Things happen.  And, as it turns out, it gave me a couple of hours to hang out in the airport with a good friend, who happened to be arriving 9 minutes after my flight was originally scheduled to depart!  Things happen, but then other things work out.

When I go on big trips, I don't even bother trying to keep track of what time it is.  Should I be sleeping now? When's the last time I ate?  Who cares.  When I get on a plane, I zone out.  Maybe I'll watch a movie, but more likely I'll listen to Radiohead, and when I exit that time portal, it is whatever time my phone tells me it is. Luckily, I like to sleep pretty much whenever I get the chance, so, 6 hour transcontinental nap?  Yes thanks! It's night time when I arrive?  Not a problem.  I can't wait to snuggle up in my little bed.
  

Picture from the window of the train, going something like 300 km/hr

So, planes, trains and automobiles, after 24 hours of travel door-to-door, I have arrived at my destination.  And I wake up in a village that looks like a painting, and 77 degree weather.

This.  This I am excited for.