Adventure Life in Marseille (2)

Getting Lost
It was local time 00:40. The last shuttle bus to Marseille had already left 40 minutes before. In fact it is out my control, since my flight was supposed arriving at 11:30. The plane was delayed at Amsterdam. I was standing in the arriving hall and staring the empty information service. I felt so helpless. I dragged my two big luggage cases to the exit. Finally I decided to give up. It is so late now and even when I arrived the residence there would not be reception.

I backed to the hall and sit on the bench. Because of the jet lag, I was not tired at all. I took out my PSP and started to play my favorite racing car. No more than 5 minutes, a man was moving towards me and asking "Are you waiting someone?" "No, I am waiting for the next shuttle bus to Marseille." "Next? It would be tomorrow morning. An half hour late, my friend's flight would arrive. I will drive to Marseille. I can give you a ride. It is my pleasure." "Thanks for your generous. I prefer stay here." My words was full of vigilance. The man insisted to give his cellphone number to me. Since then no people talked to me the whole night. I played PSP myself and let background sound effects maximum without earplug. It was not because of fear, but just made me less pitiful.

I was so concentrated in playing and did not noticed how time flied until I found a lot of people around me. Oh man, it was already 7:30 in the morning. The first bus was left on 5:30. I tried to stand up, but I can not. I got a splitting headache. Everything sucked! I can not believe this was the first day I arrive France.

I was surprised that there was only one passenger on the bus, and that was me. It was Sunday morning and not many cars on the road. The view was not attractive at all. My eyes was full of tears, but finally they did not fall. This was the life I choose.

A more unexpected thing happened when the driver told me it was terminal. I showed address to a passerby, and she looked very surprised and kept speaking to me in French. I shook my head to show my incomprehension. Another passerby came near and looked my address. He told me that I took wrong bus and arrived another city called "Aix-en-Provence". "What? Another city?" At that moment I was nearly crumbled. I checked my bus tickets which clearly showed from airport to Marseille. I was totally furious that how the driver brought me to another city. The man told me that maybe because I waited in the wrong stop at the airport. He helped me to carry my luggage cases to the bus stop. Fortunately it was quite close. Unfortunately even such close, I trod on dogshit.

I remembered the one plot of "Sex and City". The actress prepared her life in Paris sanguinely, but after she arrived everything was terrible. She walked along the street lonely and trod on dogshit. However, the same experience happened on me not in a series.

The bus was so narrow that I can not move easily to the back. Suddenly I felt that I stepped upon someone else's feet. "I am sorry." "It doesn't matter. It happens frequently in the bus." I heard a very charming voice speaking in English. "I felt sorry because just before I got on the bus, I trod on dogshit." I smiled and said. It was the first time I felt a little bit relax in this unfamiliar country.