It's 10:45 PM. Strolling around the beach with the Finns, I just realise I haven't really seen my room mates or neighbours anywhere. Apparently we all just missed the 10:10 bus, so we have to go home by taxi. This is when I start to feel a bit left out, since the other girls are together and I'm alone sitting at a carousel. Luckily one of my friends calls me and tells me not to move anywhere, they can pick me up from that place.
I saw familiar faces through the window. I feel absolutely relieved. It's great to get into the taxi after all that waiting. Not that I couldn't have waited for longer, but I was starting to feel quite lonely and it's dark. I realise that the taxi is slightly full and count quickly that there are 7 people now sitting in a 5-seat car. No big deal, I guess. The driver is a polite, young guy who just laughs and asks if everything is okay. Of course everything is perfect, we are in France!
Calvin Harris ft. Ellie Goulding - I Need Your Love (Remix) French taxis drive fast. And I mean it. To make matters worse, the roads are short and have roundabouts at the end of each one. Opened windows, music blaring on full volume and neon lights on both sides of the road. Then again I just think about the moment. This is what summer should feel like. I might never go back this place so I have to enjoy every moment of it. It's lovely how the taxi driver keeps
talking yelling to us, asking where we come from etc. I love little small talks in another language, even if you're not so good at it. The local people can be so sincere of your language skills.
I smell trouble coming. Everyone notices straight away some policemen at a roundabout, not far from our home. And no one can miss their long looks since there are three sitting on the front and four at the back in the car. Just after a few minutes we continue normally until we hear merde and are stopped by the police. Party's over now.
All I understand of the polices' and taxi driver's conversation is that the driver says it's an emergency and he's really sorry. After some time (feeling like eternity) we find out, that the driver has to pay some fines. It think we all feel kind of guilty. Luckily the fines aren't so high, because all us girls are underage. I don't know what that has to do with it. My Swedish friend and I hop out and wait for the taxi to pick us up again. Surrounded by some policemen, standing on the side of the road it all looks like we've done something wrong. Luckily everything ends well.
I guess that's just the way the cookie crumbles. At least in France. There's always something new to learn!