Day One

January 15, 2010

Maybe if I tried calling something a blog I’d do better keeping up with it.

Man, I love flying. Really. Even the hassles at the airport, of which there were none this time. Even the TSA guy at the Xray machine was in a good mood; I was putting a guitar case onto the conveyor belt. He, very dryly, asks, “Drums?”

Air Tahiti is a fine, friendly airline. The name alone make traveling nice. It’s hard to think that wherever you’re headed, you’ll be doing something other than lying on a beach eating plantains sautéed in butter. The start the flight by coming around and handing out these fragrant little flowers which make the whole cabin smell nice. Then the flight attendants disappear for a bit and reappear wearing flower print casual wear. Never mind that we’re heading for Paris where it’s about 40 degrees today.

Watching the flight progress on the little screens on the back of the seat in front of me. Vitesse du sol does not mean Sun Speed. I figured it was some poetic French way of saying Ground Speed, but in fact, Sol means ground. Soleil means sun.

Above is a picture of my room at the Hotel Britannique. Nice, but there's virtually no more space in the room than what you can see. I have brought enough stuff to stay for a year. As a result, at the moment I can't open the door to get out.

Got some exciting TV on right now. It's the biathalon. And there are no commentators. It's just pure cross-country skiing/gun-shooting action. Here they come, duck-walking up a hill going about a half-mile an hour. Yeah, that's right. I came to Paris to complain about their sports broadcasting.

3:30 in the afternoon and I don't feel tired although I didn't sleep at all on the plane. I took Ann's recommended "Jet Lag Yo Mama" pills and at this point they seem to be working.

Cold and drizzly here. But just think how happy the farmers must be.

So that's it for now. Any questions?