On Thursday, I went to Le Havre. It's a major port city, and it's where the English Channel is. Impressionism was born there, too. AND my fifth-great grandma and her family joined the Church there in 1851. So I was excited to go.
Well, it ended up storming hard core. My friend and I had to hide out in a Subway for abut 40 minutes. Which meant I had to buy something. Namely a sub! It was meatball marina, but the bread was covered in herbs and toasted, so it was very edible.
I feel like I'm on my way to being a real grown-up now...maybe.
P.S. I hate bread, and that is why this is a big deal. I do eat bread in France, though, because it's not the nasty, Wonderbread-ish type of poison.
The storm was the last straw for my cheapo umbrella. I put it in a cereal box and gave it a proper burial in a trash receptacle.
The sky miraculously cleared up the moment we started heading back to the train station.
