'Bizarre' barely begins to describe my last night in France. Confused and tired, I spent the night in the lost and found office of Paris' Charles de Gaulle airport, accompanied by two boxes of chocolate, a copy of Cosmopolitan (in French) and two airport workers.
Allow me to explain.
After completing a month-long language immersion programme in Compiegne (a 45-minute commute from Paris), with an early morning flight departing Saturday I decided it would be prudent to arrive in Paris on Friday morning.
I excitedly made last-minute visits to off-the-beaten-track sites in Paris, which included a renowned chocolate outlet. But I twisted my ankle on an uneven floor.
Nonetheless, I managed to safely make it to the airport with all my luggage - which I had stuffed in a locker for the day. Settling down into a seat with a fashion magazine to keep me awake, I was startled when the lady sitting behind the airport information desk addressed me.
Initially under the impression that I had missed my flight, she became concerned as she realised I was planning to stay the night in the airport. Apparently, I would become unwitting prey to drunken men stumbling into the unsecured terminal.
'It's very dangerous for a young woman to be travelling alone and staying the night in the airport,' she said, in perfect English.