Le Royale Cheese

I am going to ignore that I somehow got back to my hostel without getting jacked. I believed before I passed out that I was following a gay Brazilian and a New York girl to some club. I managed to dance somewhat successfully given my intoxicated state and I might have even kissed a gay guy(s). But the recolllection now that I'm safe in my hostel, locked outside of my room is a bit fuzzy, like all good drunk stories tend to be a bit non-kosher. It is almost 7AM.

It is warm, and the only difficulty lies in a funky keyboard which is almost QWERTY but not quite. Did I mention that I cannot get into my room? Anyway. The events of the last 2 hours are significantly strange to me. I gained consciousness somewhere on the outskirts of Nice, France, without the benefit of a map. My iPhone does not have GPS nor unlimited internet as it does in the US. I was following some girl and a gay guy trying to make progress with said girl, but as we see from this post, I had most likely failed (or had failed or will have failed). So I made my way to landmarks, most notably the Mediterranean Sea.

In the daytime, it is a brilliant shade of azure blue, a color which you can't imagine without seeing it in person. At night, it taunts you of your own frustration in finding a place to rest your head.

But I conquered this foreign obstacle even if I cannot get into my bed. I have reached my final destination to blog at 6:30AM local time. I cannot get into my room, but I am not dead or missing. I am alive and well, and surprised that I somehow made it back to where I should be.

Which is quite beautiful in the daytime with its azure waters, but in the night, it is a bit bland, especially when you're trying to find your home for the next few days. It ended up being okay, since Europeans are quite nice, even in the darkness.

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I honestly cannot believe that I let myself indulge in crazy matters that I have done in this foreign country. I had fully intended to eat a nice dinner of pate and cheese on French bread and maybe have a glass of wine to unwine before going to bed.

But I ended up putting on my pink dress shirt. slacks, and dress shoes not very much later. Which was quite fun when I knew what was going on. Somehow, my separation of reality and extant reality kicked in, and I panicked.

I figured out where my hostel was and I trucked back home in the dark, guided by the sound of the crashing waves on the gravelled shore. Even without a cell phone, I somehow remembered the name of the hostel where I was staying, though I cannot call nor text my friends to open the door.

Which is fine, because it is my own damn fault.

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It is okay, because Europe has treated me grandly so far.

I had hoped to get my Royale Cheese whilst on my quest for home, but alas, I may have to do that tomorrow.

No worries. The last dude in Barcelona had a saying: No pasa nada. Loosely translated to don't worry about the past.

And I am not. I live in the present, and the present is quite fun, even if a bit unexpected!

I will get my Royale Cheese before I leave France though!

-g