is the number of days I have left to spend in Paris, broken up by 7 and a half in Scotland, before the 18th of August. I finally booked my transport home after days spent trawling through the internet. I don't ask to be a millionaire or anything like that, but it would be nice to be able to just book a taxi to the airport then a flight for me and all my stuff, directly to where I want to go.
As it is, I have to leave/give away/somehow shrink as much stuff as possible, then drag the rest on the RER to the station ON MY OWN because my friends here are all so selfish and will have left by the time I go, selfish... And of course I've got the cello as well. Haven't told him yet but I'm employing my brother as porter to get me off eurostar and onto the train north, otherwise I don't think I'll make it.
Everyone's leaving and I don't like it. Not one bit. The only good thing about leaving amazing friends is that you end up with lots of places to go on holiday, and that's how I'm going to console myself. If I had any money at all I'd go to Saint Tropez; but the train to Newcastle's cheaper. Kayt 1, Laura 0.
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