We arrived, with huge deflated blowup bed in hand, at the apartment on the other side of town. Interesting people – a diverse population and very friendly. Noisy place, but friendly. Bonjour!! You always say that when you are in the same space as another person, either in the hall, elevator, stores, etc. It’s European manners. I am still learning…
We entered the building, up a flight of stairs – remember now, I am carrying a dead weight carry-on and a shoulder bag with heavy camera equipment. Christopher is clutching the gigantic bed stuff. My first introduction to the STAIRS. Ah, but on the next level was a lift. Better known as an elevator in the USA. There were two of them, each one just big enough for ONE. And maybe a deflated bed to be.
Up to the third floor (which is really the FOURTH floor as we know it – I’m beginning to learn that things are a BIT different here…) And there is no closing door on the lift so you actually can touch the walls as you go UP. cute. My grandson would LOVE this place. Did I mention that I don’t like bridges – AND elevators??? Small ones in particular. I did adjust eventually and actually liked using the lift after a few days. Getting out of breath climbing four flights of stairs is not fun. The lift is the way to go. Eventually I would adjust to the stairs routine – Eventually is the key word here.
Enter apartment. White fluffy cat greets me, meows and meows. He’s very talkative. We carry on a great conversation because I speak fluent KAT. Bed all blown up. nice fluffy, sheets, pillow, blanket and it’s NIGHT NIGHT for me.