I arrived at the Paris airport, knowing only a handful of French words and phrases, holding a map of the city I picked up at the information desk, with the address of the place I was staying written on the first page of my otherwise blank journal. And … I had no cell phone to help me find my way.
I followed the signs with the little trains on them. Paid for my ticket with the Euros I had exchanged at the airport. Picked a Metro stop that appeared to be in the general vicinity of the apartment I was staying at and proceeded to lug my 50 pound suitcase up and down countless flights of stairs.