A Thief

Sunday started out as a great day. I've been desperate to see the movie Nine since whenever I first heard about it forever ago and Sunday I was finally going to see it. I should have known. 9 has always been my unlucky number.

Hannah and I parked at the Aubagne train station at 11:30. We caught the train to Marseille and had loads of time to waste before the movie started at 2. We spent 2 hours wandering back streets of the city that were obviously quite far from the tourist track.

The most disturbing sight was this huge flea market type thing that looked like it was from the slums of a third world country. It was a shock to see so close to the Vieux Port.

We also explored the Cathedral of the Majeure. It's actually closed to tourists Sundays but we snuck in anyway. It was creepy in the dark, especially with the sounds of this little kid's voice coming out of the shadows. It ends up we weren't the only tourists that day but my first thought was definitely ghost.

Anyway, we walked until we were almost late for the movie, and because of my inappropriate boots, my feet screamed at me for it for at least the next three days.

Nine was great. What a cast! The only character I despised was the man. What a jerk.

Then we caught the train home, arriving in Aubagne at 5:30. We got in the car. Hannah looked for her backpack. It was gone. I thought she was joking. I didn't even know she had her backpack with her. But no, it was definitely gone. And at second glance, my front passenger door was also bent in half. Oooh crap.

So, seeing nothing like this has ever happened to me before, what with the biggest crime near my house being cow-tipping, I had no idea what to do. We drove to my house and let the family know. You have no idea how I was dreading that moment.

Later we got the door taped up and I took Hannah home. Then I picked Camilla up from the train station for our already scheduled homework time. Instead of homework, we ended up translating the items stolen into French and figuring out how the heck to say "Someone broke the car and stole stuff" in French. I was freaking out a bit so she offered to come with me to the police station in the morning.

Then I took her to the train station. Her train had been cancelled. So, I drove her back to Cassis. It was my first time driving there and after that day, it was just one more thing. I panicked about getting lost but it all went well. I got home and called to let her know I was ok. Then my phone ran out of money. What a perfect ending.

Next morning: After barely sleeping all night, I managed to get to the police station even a little before it opened at 8. Too bad they were all more intested in their coffee and gossip than me so Camilla and I had to wait until about 8:30 before anyone said more than good morning.

We made the declaration and the policeman seemed to be enjoying trying to understand what we were saying. I'm so glad we made his morning so entertaining. In the meantime, we were checking our watches hoping desperately to manage to make it to school sometime, even if it was a bit late.

Miraculously, we finished there, took the paperwork home, got back to the parking garage (not the train station parking!), and ran all the way to the train station. We made it just in time for the 9:08 train, getting us to school at 9:45. I felt like we had salvaged the day.

At 3, I got back to Aubagne and the only thoughts in my head were lunch and a nap. Instead, I had a phone call that I had to take the car to the garage immediately. Oh. So after getting a pain au chocolat and barely scraping up the 6 euros change for the parking, I set off to find the garage.

Getting there was easy. Finding it, not so much. I drove back and forth on that stupid road for at least 15 minutes, with people honking at me and zooming around. Finally I gave up, parked, and walked to the nearest place to ask directions. Interestingly, that was where I was supposed to be.

The woman at the desk was excited. A jeune fille au pair! She had all sorts of questions. Apparently she was thinking about getting her very own au pair. I gave her the website I used and she started looking people up while I was there. I was informed that she wanted a British girl "because your accent is too hard." Oh, I'm so sorry my accent is bothering you.

Then she needed the registration card for the car. It was the second time that day someone had been mad at me for not having it. I was about to fall apart. I called the family. It seemed no one even knew where it was. Great. So she sent me home.

I got the kids and the rest of the day went. When I finally went back to my room to sleep, I found that an apple sauce had burst open in my purse. There may or may not have been some tears as I washed it out.

So the moral of this story is, I hate people who take stuff that don't belong to them. Oh, and this is probably a really bad time to run out of anti-stress stomach medication.