An Interview From a Phonebooth in the Rain (And btw France is Beautiful)

Nice Travel Blog

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My travel companion, Lewis. He's really glad to be here :)

Attempting the night before to pack all I could for my early checkout from the Yellow Nest, I still got a 'Can you please close the door,' as I made sure I had absolutely all of my stuff. It's just one of those things you have to get used to when you're staying in rooms with several strangers. The night before, a guy who works at my hostel had recommended that I stay for a day in Montpellier, but I had already booked a hostel in Nice, so I thought I'd have to skip it. Luck was on my side though, when I had a two hour stop-over between trains in this cute little French city.

I think I've decided that I tend to like the smaller cities over the bigger ones.

My first glimpses of French pastrys. My mouth is watering just looking at this picture!
Don't get me wrong-I absolutely loved Paris, but there's something so genuine about a city like Montpellier. In my attempt to speak the name in a French accent, I even like the way it sounds as it rolls off my tongue. The main area is filled with fountains, flowers, and loads of pastry shops. I've got this crazy feeling the French like pastries. So do I, so I was in food heaven as I browsed the treats and finally chose a cheese and spinach quiche to go with a Fanta (of course.) As I buy them both, I wonder if I'll get over my craving for this orange soda while I'm in Europe, or if I'll be buying one every day. I should keep a count of how much money I spend on them.

I enjoyed my little lunch at the station while I waited for my train, wondering how exactly it was possible for me to really be in France; to be anywhere this beautiful and amazing, and to have the chance to travel like this.

Love is love no matter where you are in the world.
I really feel blessed, and I can't help but smile, probably looking like a fool, as I was sitting alone. Who cares? I'm happy!

Finally in Nice, I had only 30 minutes left to call Dr. Wright for my phone interview for SFSU's grad program. After dropping off my pack at the hotel, which I booked right across the street from the train station on purpose, I hurried over in the rain. Dialed. The lady on the other end of the line was giving instructions for the card. Ummm..I don't speak French. (Though I did figure out that the poster in the booth with a picture of an elderly man was saying something about how he had gotten confused and wandered away from his retirement home and that no one could find him.) I tried not no chuckle at this as gibberish was all I was hearing as I was getting more and more antsy to get through.

Love the palm trees sprouting from the concrete.
After just two more attempts, I finally figured it out, and was connected. Sweet! Only problem was, I had reached his office line. He was working from home. Aaahhh! I figured I must've looked up the wrong email and that he had given me his home line somewhere, so I ran like a maniac back to my hostel and got another number.

This one was for Dr. Mosier. Crap.

More running, but this time I looked up the SFSU psych office's number, praying that they would work with me and give me his home number. On the way back to the phone booth, I was out of breath this time and laughing at myself that I must look like a total fool running back and forth on the street. I really can't miss this interview, even if it is a bit unconventional to interview from a phone booth in France.

With just 10 minutes left in the time frame to call, I finally reached him.

Whew! The interview went pretty well as far as I'm concerned, but we'll just have to see. With a French phone card for way more minutes than I needed, I took advantage and called my family, and it was great to hear their voices. After booking a hostel for La Spezia and checking to make sure my train in the morning to Italy wasn't one of the 70% I'd heard were on strike, I headed to bed, with lofty goals of waking up super early to see at least part of Nice before I had to board my early train to La Spezia.

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My travel companion, Lewis. Hes r…
My travel companion, Lewis. He's …
My first glimpses of French pastry…
My first glimpses of French pastr…
Love is love no matter where you a…
Love is love no matter where you …
Love the palm trees sprouting from…
Love the palm trees sprouting fro…
photo by: EmyG