Ok–here is is. The no-holding-back, god’s-honest-truth about why this trip sucks. By me. Ahem…
This trip sucks because if I’m not doing something at all times, I feel badly. We came so far and spent so much money, I feel we should be squeezing every last second out of our experience. I realize you can’t do that and have fun, but it doesn’t help the feelings of guilt.
This trip sucks because I hate cities, and I planned a three (well, originallly four and a half) week trip to only cities. I feel most at home when I’m around trees and open sky, and there isn’t even any grass in this city. Well, there is, but you are not allowed to walk on it, and it is far away.
This trip sucks because there is nowhere to pee, yet everywhere smells like it. I’ve had a previous commenter on here tell me to ‘be fair’ to Paris–it doesn’t all smell like pee. And the reality is–it does. Walking in our neighborhood, in front of the Pompidou Center, it is so bad I literally gag. And that’s not the only place I’ve smelled it, but I won’t bore you with the lists of the many, MANY places that reek of human litter box. And this bothers me for more than one reason–that is, beyond the gag-factor. You see, I pee more than anyone in the free world. I pee at least fifteen times a day, way more if I’m drinking wine (which I’ve not been doing here). This does not work well in cities–not at all. Yet I always find somewhere to do it that is socially acceptable (NOT in the street, though that would be much easier). Dear reader, imagine a time when you were traveling when you had to use the facilities, and they were really hard to find. Maybe it took you a while. Sure, it was uncomfortable, but more than that, it was annoying. It took up precious time you could have been doing something else, something better than trying to find a restroom that may or may not be out of order or for customers only. Now imagine doing that FIFTEEN times a day. That’s my vacation. Now imagine taking all of that time, just to have to step over multiple puddles of other people’s urine. Wouldn’t that annoy you? I swear to god–and I’m sure you believe me by now–I contemplated just squatting on the Champs du Mars yesterday, rather than standing in a thirty minute line for the sanisette. After all, everyone else freaking does it. We chose, instead, to just come home–the twenty minute train ride was quicker than the line.
This trip sucks because I’m starving. I’m starving all of the time. I cannot remember a time when I wasn’t hungry. I refuse to eat when we are sightseeing (because then I’d drink water and then I’d have to pee more), so when we finally return to our neighborhood, I’m all about finding something to eat. Which takes more time. And then, like today, we sit down at a cafe and read the menu. I’m not a picky eater–not in the least–but again with the honesty, there’s very little I will eat here, and even less that I will pay insane amounts of money to eat. Today at lunch, my options were swordfish, duck confit, two kinds of raw red meat, or leg of lamb. So after having gone twenty hours without eating, and walking around for five of them, I had a cup of gazpacho. Were I Christian, I’d change the Lord’s Prayer to ‘give us this day our daily mush’.
This trip sucks because I’m trying so hard to share it with others, so that they my learn from it. And then I come ‘home’ to snarky, mean comments posted on here. I realize the theme of this blog is honesty, but it is honesty with a purpose. Honestly to help others. And telling me I’m an asshole (in not so many words, but that’s the main sentiment) is not constructive in any way. I’ve managed to be perfectly honest about my trip, myself and my faults–why spend your time being mean to me? What does that do for you? Really? Because it is further f-ing up my trip. So if that was your goal–you’ve achieved it. Though you really don’t have to put forth the effort. I’m doing a fine job ruining it for myself, thank you very much.
This trip sucks because I’m constantly fighting with my husband because I’m so miserable. This trip sucks because I can’t get away from said husband, even though we have an apartment and not a hotel room (thank the gods for that!) This trip sucks because we spent so much money on it–money we don’t even have–and it sucks. This trip sucks because people are going to ask me how it was when I return, and I don’t know what to say. I’ve contemplated it–I have ‘interesting’ and ‘sometimes beautiful’, but I also have ‘not fun or relaxing in any way’. This trip sucks because it is almost over, and I’m so very glad about that fact.