During the taxi ride from the airport to my hotel we drove past the very hotel I stayed in my first night in Paris during study abroad. I'd missed the shuttle at the airport. Well, missed because I couldn't even find it, and had a horrific time figuring out where I was going. I remember stepping off the shuttle just as my professor and his wife were walking down the street. It was perfect timing. One of those moments you feel like you've never been so glad to see a familiar face in your life.
Naturally, I started reflecting on what that arrival had been like. An interesting comparison to my current situation. At that point I had as much of an idea of what my arrival in Bamako would be, as I did of Paris when I arrived at that hotel almost ten years ago. ...I can't believe it's been almost ten years.
I do love Paris. It was wonderful to take one of my favorite routes and think about how different my life has been each time I've visited Paris. The city changes too, though it's always beautiful.
The brief stop was a good break to help with the mental adjustment. Being away someplace I felt comfortable made my final destination seem less terrifying. Though the hope that it would aid with jetlag was too optimistic.
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