Story - A rude Awakening, Part II

The other thing that they don't have in Europe is screen in the windows. I
was so hot in France that we opened the windows and got eaten alive from the
bugs all night long.
Roxan
"Kathy N-V" wrote in message
.com...
One Summer, I was assigned to work in Europe for six weeks. Considering
this
the opportunity of a lifetime, I brought DD with me. When I wasn't
actually
in the office working, we drove all over the place, spent a week in Paris,
and another week in Britain. Most of the time, though, we were in various
parts of Germany or Austria, and DD stayed with family.

We stayed with family or friends everywhere except Paris, where I know no
one. Because I am a tightwad, I made arrangements with a German travel
agent
to get an inexpensive hotel room for DD and me. My only requirements were
clean, safe and quiet. It's a pity that we didn't get quiet, and that I
forgot to mention air conditioning. It's also a pity that the travel agent
didn't tell me that there is no such thing as a cheap hotel room in Paris.

DD and I had a hairy, scary drive through Paris at rush hour before
finding
the hotel. (Did you know that Parisian taxis will pass you on the right,
and
even on the sidewalk, if you are foolish enough to stop at a red light?
Guess how I found out?) The hotel was in the 147th Arondissement, meaning
it
was only slightly closer to the Eiffel Tower than it was to our home in
Boston. After taking a death ride in the scariest elevator I've ever
seen,
we found our room. By standing in the center of the bed and reaching out,
I
could touch all four walls with my fingertips.

The bathroom was another shock to the system. It looked like a
conventional
half bath, with a toilet and sink - except there was a shower head
sticking
out of the wall opposite the toilet. Yep, you've got it: they built the
bathroom in a shower stall. Towels weren't included in the rate, so our
first trip was to a department store to buy some. (Note to self: budget
hotels all over Europe do not provide towels and especially, facecloths.
Bring your own or be prepared to pay)

On top of everything, Paris was going through an unprecidented heat wave.
My
calculations after looking at local thermometers led me to believe that it
was around 104 degrees F. Hot, hot, hot. Paris is not even a remotely
quiet
city, even in our far flung location. So we had a choice: die of heat,
or
open the windows and listen to Paris at night. We opened the windows.

One of us, being smaller and more able to tune out the sounds of drunken
revels in the street below, konked right out. The other of us, sweating,
wheezing and grumbling that I could stay at the Taj Mahal for the rates on
this sauna, finally reached a restless slumber as the sky was turning from
grey to orange.

At some time thereafter, I woke up, realizing that I had become a sweaty
little dent in the bed. Breathing was difficult, and I couldn't see
anything
but a 1970's style print bedspread. Huh? Then I felt a knee in the
middle
of my back. At some point after I finally fell asleep, DD felt lonely.
Being a half inch from me in bed wasn't enough to cure this loneliness,
however, so she climbed onto my back and went right back to sleep.
Apparently, she was more than willing to ignore the heat if she could be
"safe and close" to Mama.

I figure I'll sleep soundly when she's about 30. Maybe a little later.

Kathy N-V