Time is running together...

Sunday




Moved to a new hostel in the Bastille area, which is somewhat more lively and surrounded by far cheaper shops, hence why I was able to buy myself 3 dresses or ten Euros each. Excellent.

On the downside; I miss the d’Artagnan a LOT. The people, the atmosphere, the vending machines selling plasters for my blistered feet. Here I’m pushed to find a socket in my room. But even then my adaptor is still lodged in the wall of my old room. Every day I would give it a massive he-woman like pull, but it continually refused to budge.



Anyway, when I did check into my….



(I took a short break at this point for an afternoon nap followed by a hot chocolate - since Thursday, my sleep cycle and blood sugar are FUCKED)



Anyway, when I checked in this morning (That morning? It was “This” morning when I wrote that entry, but that was more than a week ago...) at 11 AM my room was closed (11AM-4PM) for cleaning. Why is anyone’s guess, since it was empty and had no need for cleaning but oh well. I had to take my luggage down to the luggage room, which was downstairs. In the cellar. A stone cellar. Down a narrow, winding set of stairs. With no lift. Excellent idea Mr. Hostel Designer Man. How do I know he was a man? A woman wouldn’t make such an obvious fallacy.

The room is tiny and offers a choice of 3 beds – the top bunk, which no one ever wants, the bottom bunk which traps the unbearable heat, and the singleton, which is so saggy once having lain down on it you can’t escape again. There is no wi-fi (they call it “Wee-Fee” here, lulz XD ), but I couldn’t use it even if there was cause I’m out of battery, and my adaptor is in the D’Artagnan. Damn. Moving was a baaaad choice.



Oh yeah, on Saturday I went to see my first play at Comedie Francaise – Ubu Roi. Comedie Francaise is pretty, it’s polished and it’s full of marble and ornate décor. But it’s not the Bouffes du Nord. It lacks a lot of the…I don’t know, BDN really has a feeling of timelessness the CF just can’t match.

Anyway the play was alright. It’s just a bit difficult to understand why it’s being performed today. Ubu Roi was written at a time when swearing onstage just didn’t happen, and it was outrageous when first performed 100 years ago. The point was to mock the bourgeoisie audience and shake 19th century theatre out of its stupor. Now the bourgeoisie audience laugh away with everyone else. They play is no longer shocking. It’s officially a “Classic”.