Sachinn Garg

As we sort out our Visa formalities, the Eurotrip hasn’t really begun begun yet. We are both: France-stuck and France-struck.

Settling down is also coming along alright except for the toilets.

Why cant the western world understand that there are places where only water can reach and paper cannot?

The shopping modus operandi is simple.

First of all you memorize the table of seventy.

Each time you pick up a thing in the market, you see the price tag.

You multiply the Euro value of the price with seventy to get the rupee value.

You exchange a look of disappointment.

You keep it back where it was kept, as if it was never removed from its place.

As for the household chores, we have set up an absolutely flat organization with an open door policy. Boobla, Boobli and I share equal rights in this place except for Boobli, who has a special right to beat me and Boobla with a hunter each time we do something wrong.

Moving on, this Sunday, Boobla and I got up to realize that it was still the weekend, even though we had had the previus day off. We are still getting used to the two day weekend after long time. So we had more than a few options to look forward to this weekend.

We narrowed down to Mersailles and Mersailles brought in front of us the mortality of the French. Where Aix seemed to have people who were almost unrealistically sweet, the native French seemed like a minority in Mersailles. The city had a highly rustic, unkempt look to it, cluttered with North Africans and hazaar immigrants. Whether the city was rash or Aix is too smooth, I don’t know. But somehow it still left me with a good taste in my mouth.

As the day ended, Boobla was regretting not being able to buy the Football jersey of the Mersailles Club and Boobli’s best moment was when she could come back by my bus pass and save some five odd Euros (350 Rs). My best moment, well, definitely, the top view of the girls at the beach city from the Cathedral. The adrenalin is running fast as we get excited for the amazing travels we guys plan to make in the coming months.

As all my stalker fans would know, I have been to France some two years ago.

But the company I have this time is in sharp contrast from the last time. Where I had Sai, the IIT Chennai Tamil guy with me last time, who went to Eiffel on the first weekend and dismissed Paris as unimpressive and never went out in the city again. This time I have Boobla and Boobli, whose concept of a shoestring budget trip does not allow them to have Maggi without Coke, making me check the meaning of the word shoestring in my dictionary again and again.

So the big question we guys are now facing is that where to begin our Eurotrip. Where Boobla wants to kick off the Eurotrip with Barcelona because he wants to buy a Spanish guitar (Boobla once went to Kanpur from Delhi to buy a Dhoti), Boobli is hell bent on Nuremburg because she wants to wash her clothes at her aunt’s place.

Well, personally, I wanna go to Prague. Why? I need a haircut and god it costs as much as an annual personal grooming package at Habibs in New Delhi. Eastern Europe would be so much cheaper. I am not kidding. Boobla agrees.

And yup I gotta write about IAE (pronounced orgasmic EE AA UH, as I said). As Boobla and I are trying to get used to getting hold of our jaws on seeing the women in this part of the world, in a weird moment I ended up challenging a seven foot Finnish guy and an eight foot Dutch guy into a Football match between the Europeans and the non Europeans. The match should be sometime next week and I have very high hopes from the Brazilian guys. Fingers crossed.

I hope I do not see what my juniors at MDI did to us. Still not over the four one defeat.