Velib Shmelib.

So Jay and I went on a biking adventure this afternoon. We got Jay a Velib and biked over the Seine into the 16th and wandered around a bit before actually finding Bois de Bologne - course we ended up at the Arc de Triomphe which is at the top of the park when we planned on entering it at the bottom. Alas. We ended up finding a neat park which was suppose to have a chateau, but instead just had some nice buildings on the premises and a garden that I wish I had pillaged. Then to finish off our park adventure we went over to another gated off park (you have to lock up your bikes outside since you can only walk around them) that has this really cool Shakespeare Theatre that's basically built into nature. You sit on grass, the backstage is in a little hill, the stage is made of stone, super cool. On our way out - around sunset - Jay goes to unlock his Velib, and oh funny story, the key breaks. We can't get his bike unlocked, I have no more credit on my phone, and it's about to be dark. GREAT






So we minorly freak out for a second and then I scoot off on my bike to go find a velib station and get credit for my phone. I get to a velib station and call an operator who I can't understand between my poor French and the fact that I'm on a major street. A nice French guy tries to help me out, but I need Jay's pin number which he has on him. GREAT.

So for the next half hour I frantically look for a place to buy credit after trying a super market, a gas station, a newspaper stand, and a pharmacie, a minimart has it. It's dark by this point, I race back to the middle of the park and I find Jay literally about to leave the bike and walk home because I've been gone for almost an hour.



The moral of the story, JUST BORROW SOMEONE'S PHONE. Because that's what Jay did right after I left (and of course didn't have my number on him, silly us) and found out he can just mail the key and his pin number to the velib people and they are just going to come pick up the bike in the morning. REALLY? Yes, really.

So we take the metro to the Marais and eat a butt-ton of falafel. So all's well that ends well.



AND! Best part that I cannot believe I forgot we saw TWO prostitutes in the Bois on the walk out of the park last night. One was standing on the side of the road leaning against a sign post - completely dressed in black and unable to be seen without the light of a passing car. The other coming out of the woods with a man in tow who's breasts were basically falling out of her shirt - if you could call it that.