It's time to drive in France!

Monday, October 22, 2007

Up until today, I've been quite fine with the idea of walking or taking the bus everywhere I want to go and I'm quite proud of myself for having found the bus routes to all the baby groups, despite the total lack of information provided on the "Envibus" website, let alone the bitchy, unhelpful customer service people on the phone. So "French". The expression "C'est la vie" was definitely invented here...people here just seem to accept the total lack of service and efficiency that you would find back "home". When you call a business, and the person you need is not available, you are told to call back, never once has anyone offered to take my name and number, so I have learned to just continue dialing in the hopes that, eventually, I will get through to the person I need. Anyway, back to driving, the thought of driving here had me paralyzed with fear in May, when I discovered how narrow the roads are, how fast the people drive, how crappy or non-existent the road signs are and how many big, huge scary round-abouts there are, for which Robert, to this day, doesn't know the proper rules and has driven aimlessly in circles in an attempt to take the intended exit. Today, however, I decided I better conquer those fears real fast. We got on the bus at 9:05am (the internet said it came at 8:45, so we were there at 8:40) to go to the Monday morning baby group in Sophia-Antipolis, a 20-minute drive away. We had a wonderful hour and a half play-time, and left promptly at 11:00 am to catch the 11:17 bus home. At noon, still waiting anxiously for the bus, and getting increasingly hungry and cold, I decided I better nurse Andrew as he will be grumpy on the bus ride home otherwise. 12:30 rolls around, and I'm getting anxious and frustrated, hungrier and colder (it was one of the coldest days so far), still no bus. At 1:00, I call Robert on my cell phone, only to discover that his U.S. cell phone number is not working on my phone anymore. Fortunately, I had a jar of baby food and a handful of Cheerios to keep Andrew going for a while, figuring the bus is bound to come by any minute. Nope...no bus. 2:00 rolls around and the other people waiting for a bus had all given up and taken taxis, an option not available to me, as I did not have a car seat for Andrew, and even if I wanted to take the chance, the taxi drivers would not. The only friend's phone number I had memorized, was not available, and even if she was, she doesn't even have a driver's license, so she wouldn't have been much help anyway. Desperate, I started searching through the previous caller displays and found a colleague of Robert's phone number so I called her to see if she could walk to Robert's office and ask him to call me. Fortunately, she answered, but informed me that she was in New York on a business trip. By this point, tears are streaming down my face, but I didn't want to seem too panicked on the phone so I just told her that I really needed to reach Robert and she graciously sent an email to Robert's assistant who paged Robert to call me and by the time I heard Robert's voice, I was hysterical. Deep down, I knew that somehow, someway, I would make it home, but it was a scary feeling to be stranded 10 miles away from home, in a foreign country, with my little boy. Robert immediately asked me where I was so that he could come and pick us up, and I was even more hysterical when I discovered that I really had no idea where I was. All I knew was that I was at a bus stop in Sophia-Antipolis, where the #1 bus is supposed to come and pick us up! After some help from his French colleagues, he got directions to the baby group, which had long since closed, and finally came to the rescue, not before lecturing me on having all of his phone numbers handy, along with specific directions of everywhere I go from now on. I know he was only worried about us, but even without his lecture, I learned many lessons that day. And I realized I needed to conquer the fears and drive in France. As it turned out, the bus drivers went on strike for the rest of the day, something I've now learned happens quite often here. This weekend, we're going driving!