Me Vs Marseille.

I had been dreading the13th of February for weeks because on this date I would have to take my medical examination for my Carte de Sejour, all alone in big Marseille. As if this wasn’t going to be stressful enough, I would be suffering post-birthday blues.

I felt surprisingly confident this morning as I headed down to the bus station: armed with as much entertainment as I could fit in my bag: ipod, uni textbook, book, and some food. As I stepped onto the bus, I also picked up some street press, for good measure.

What I wasn’t armed with was much money. And as I caught the subway to the bus station after the doctors, I realized I would not have enough money to get home. What was worse was that I had had my wallet stolen on the weekend (yes Sonya and Lils, our one) so I had no way of getting more cash.

So, sitting on the tram I was inspired. For starters, there was a man playing guitar for everyone in the carriage. I took my earphones out, opting for live versions of French songs instead (who wouldn’t??). And then I had a great idea: I should beg for the couple euros I am short of.

The fact that I am currently reading about Mother Teresa (and her humility) further persuaded me that I could beg for my ride home.

But then, looking down, I realized something: I’m wearing expensive shoes, bag, pants and jacket. I look like a business woman (What can I say? I was scared of the doctors so I dressed up in the hope it would make me look healthier??).

So, I walked down the main street thinking of something I could say to get 2 euros. But before I knew it, I had arrived to the Vieux Port.

Two hours later, I was still sitting on a concrete step by the water, sun shining and 100 pages more knowledgable about Mother Teresa. And still short of 2 euros.

I reasoned that I don’t really need the money: “someone needs it much more than me”. Plus, “this could be fun” I thought, as I dreamed of the endless offers I may get from passer bys.

After another 2 hours, Sam told me he would arrive in the next hour or two or in four hours (he was at work so it all depended on whether he could re shuffle his schedule) and, I got excited about seeing money again in note form. However, in the meantime, I was starving and had concluded that I needed to ration out my three mandarins.

Another hour or so later, Sam had arrived to my rescue. Not only did he drag me off the streets, he fed me too.

With my health in order, Sam and I decided to go for a nice provencal walk. We even bumped into some circus crew and their dogs. I was more interested in the latter OBVIOUSLY.

It was good to finally get home this evening.

The only bad news is that I am STILL 153cm tall.