forasmuch as I had applied for a visa from France and had not entered the country with a new visa, I had to spend at least one night in Paris. When I checked the prices of the hotels, I regretted it, I decided to stay at the airport for a few hours and then Go straight to Lisbon, the capital of Portugal. The only problem was that the location had to be announced on arrival, I consulted with a friend and he suggested Disneyland.
Because of the cold weather, cheap hotels could be found near Disneyland Paris. Disneyland was about 40 minutes away from Paris, so I decided to go straight from the airport, visit Disney, and spend the night there. I didn't get a chance to see Disney on my last trip. So I got a hotel in Disney for 1/4 the cost.
About nine months ago, a Frenchman named Antoine came to my house in Tehran, bringing with him two other French boys whom he had met at the airport. They stayed at my house for a few days. I decided to let him know I was coming too. He lived in Lyon, in the south of France, but he said he would come to Disney with me and buy himself a ticket in less than an hour. He also buys a direct train ticket to Disney for me and sent it to me.
I thought it would be better to inform the other two French boys as well. So I told Thomas and Tangi that Antoine and I were going to Disney. Tangi answered: I am leaving France for Chile at night, and Thomas said he was very busy. But he invited me to stay at his home and sent a picture of his wonderful house in Paris. Although I was very tempted, there was another problem.
The hotel I had booked had no cancellation. I opened the software again and checked the hotel reservation status. In a moment of disbelief, I saw that Booking.com had allowed me to cancel the hotel for up to 24 hours as a gift.
I canceled the hotel immediately and told Thomas I would come to Paris to see him. He also sent me the address.
This was not the only strange case of this trip. Six months ago, when I had two months of absolute rest at home due to a lumbar disc, I decided to write a novel with a cultural theme in the form of a travelogue. I used the aurora borealis travelogue and changed it a bit, with a
little bit of imagination, and published a book called "North Orbit." In one of the chapters, I wrote the story of the French coming to my house and included some cultural points in the subject, and at the end, I wrote this sentence: "Today, as I write this, six months have passed since this story and "I am sitting at Thomas's house in Paris."
I had completely forgotten about this. When I talked to my sister about Thomas's invitation, she was surprised. "Exactly 6 months ago, you wrote in your book that you were going to Tomaso's house!" I arrived in Paris in the morning; Antoine sent me a step-by-step guide to board the Disney train; it was confusing if there was no guide, I would be lost like last time, Charles de Gaulle Airport is very confusing. If you are planning to go to Disneyland, the cheaper but slower way is to use the metro, which has to be purchased ticket for District 5, which is about 14 euros for a round trip.
But my suggestion is to buy a weekly ticket that is very affordable and rechargeable. Only you must have one photo with yourself. The second method is to use the TGV train, which takes only 10 minutes to get to Disneyland but costs about 22 euros, and you get off at the first stop. Anthony and I spent the evening at Disney whit, reviving our childhood memories. I had been heard about Disney many times in college, but it was very valuable for me to see the details up close.
I checked Thomas's home address at Google Map and went there by subway at the suggestion of Google Maps. Thomas's house is on the same street I first visited in Paris. After the North Orbit book, I wrote a fictional novel called anesthesia, about an anesthesiologist going into anesthesia.
I met Thomas in the cafe next to his house; we were there for the convenience. he welcomed me warmly; I was extremely happy to see him, and I was a little surprised by the strange things that had happened recently. A friend joined us a few minutes later, Thomas introduced him and said he was a doctor, I asked, "General practitioner or specialist," he said I was an anesthesiologist. We went to Thomas's house, a full-fledged old French house with a revolving staircase and small elevator, plastered roof and wall woodwork with a modern interior design that made a fascinating combination.
Thomas said he was leaving home at 6 in the morning because he had to go to another city to work. I also confirmed that I had no problem and would go out with him.
I slept on the sofa in my sleeping bag at night, and I was still confused by the strange happenings. I woke up early in the morning and left the house with Thomas. I said goodbye to him and thanked him for his hospitality. My flight was in the evening, so I had time to take a short walk through the streets of Paris and reminisce; I walked for a few hours, drank coffee, and without hurrying, I headed to the airport.