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Tuesday, June 28, 2005
Escape
Neil, Jan & I found a shady spot to sit where I could tell them the story of my adventure.
JAN: Let's go! Tell your story! What happened?
BLAMB: After rescuing me from certain doom, Quon'dar stuck me on a plane and sent me out of the country. He told me to hide and wait for him. I'm no fan of Quon'dar and I don't trust him, but it made sense to follow his lead until other options were presented ...
Paris, France
 It was sunny, clear and cool in Paris and I was happy to get away from the Toronto smog. It would have been difficult hiding back in Canada because my photo had just been published on the cover of MacLeans, heralding this site as "the bestest, most fantastically goodest blog ever in the history of Confederation". While the praise was certainly deserved, it made walking down the street somewhat difficult.
 Unfortunately, as soon as I arrived, it seemed like being recognized was going to be a problem in France as well. In the elevator at the hotel, I startled a maid.
MAID: Oh! Pardon, monsieur CNBC.
BLAMB: Um ... je parle seulement un peu de francais.
MAID: Oui, monsieur CNBC.
BLAMB: [to self] I wonder what 'C'est en bassai' means?
My plan was simple: hang out at the hotel, drink lots of coffee and eat crepes & tarts. But the phone rang as soon as I entered the room.
 STRANGER'S VOICE: Is that you?
BLAMB: Who?
STRANGER: The bestest, most fantasically goodest blogger ever in the history of Confederation?
BLAMB: Maybe.
STRANGER: You're in danger. You have to leave NOW.
BLAMB: I just got here.
STRANGER: You have to get out of the hotel. Walk two blocks east along the Seine to the RER station, buy a ticket and take the train to the Eiffel Tower. I will be waiting for you on the top observation deck.
BLAMB: Can't I just take five minutes to catch my breath ...
STRANGER: Hurry.
[ click ]
1:18 AM
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