I arrive- and disasters

As you all know, I spent the last 3 days before leaving for Pairs obsessing about good ol' Hurricane Earl. Life had calmed down by Friday and I decided to go with my entire plan A which included leaving RI on the 2PM train for Boston.
I'll make this short and choppy.
Got to train station a little early. After 10 minutes, the station master announced tree down on tracks at Old Saybrook- so- 2 hr delay. Rain by this time was coming down in torrents. I raced to Providence through the rain and got the bus to the airport so all worked out well. Flight only 45 mins late. Good. Easy flight.
Jet lagged when I arrived. Asked man how to get to the trains since I couldn't find the connecting shuttle. He said they were on strike. My brain froze and he said he would drive me, having, conveniently, his taxi outside. I said I couldn't afford it. He said no problem and tossed my bag in the back. I, following it, got in and he took off. We raced down the highway as I watched the meter climb astronomically high. Terror, but no way out. When we got into the city, I told him to let me out at the nearest metro station. The fare by this time translated to just over $100US! We yelled a little bit. Before he finally gave up my bag.
Shaken, by this time my brain was fried, and a metro trip that should have been just 5 stops, turned into 27 with 2 line chages. The good thing is that Paris metro is soooo easy to navigate.
Got to the apartment building and couldn't figure out how to get in. Called the caretaker of this apt. He was lovely, but- bad news. The elevator wasn't working. Up 6 flights of stairs with luggage (once I located the stairs, which were darkened and spiral. Finally figured out how to turn on light...)
Apartment amazing and more than I hoped for. Greeted with champagne and flowers by my charming host.
Nap. Followed by what was supposed to be a short pleasant stroll to the Public Garden (Jardin des Plantes) and then a train ride to the right bank (only 4 stops) to see an exhibit on "ethnic headdresses from around the world". I got lost. Never did get to the garden. Ended up taking part in a demonstration against the government's racist policies (expulsion of the gypsies, etc.). As you all know, these laws have been sticking in my craw and caused me to hate Sarkoczy and his minions. I was in tears at the beauty of French resistance.
Landlady called me just then. I told her I had to call her back, as I couldn't hear her because I was in demonstration. (Ooops- what if she's right wing?). So I said "taking pictures". (Ooops, what if she's a leftie and offended by my crassness??)
Never did find the museum, which I discovered when I got home was because I had the wrong address. It was on Boulevard Bastille, not Rue de Republique. When I get it wrong, it's all wrong!
Back for another nap and D arrived around 6.30. Hooray!
Went to an amazing restaurant (I had liver, he had beef) and chatted with the Canadians at the next table. The man had been 3 weeks in Finland on a culinary exchange program. He said they are totally advanced in nutrition, but their food tastes like crap (not his words.) Fascinating.
On walk home, accosted by aggressive drunk. Tried to swat him off without success. He whined (in French, but I understood) "I am a Jew." WTF???? I finally cracked. I stared straight into his eyes from about a foot away and yelled as loudly as I could- "No!!!" Then, remembering my manners, I added, "Merci." He was taken aback, and tried to follow us again, but I turned and glared at him and he latched on to another hapless couple instead.
Home. And to bed.
More as things progress...
I'll be posting a web album or two as I go along...
Bon appetit!