From tourist to tour guide

In Turkey, I was a tourist. You could have posted a neon sign over my head saying so, only it would have been redundant. In France, I am a tour guide/translator with a flock of two, my parents. Right now we're in Paris, in an apartment we rented in the Marais (3ème). It's a really cool trendy neighbourhood with lots of designer (ie small designer) stores, 'concept' stores (whatever that means), shoe stores and gay bars. Paris, as always, is lovely but I don't understand why I have to wear long pants and shoes and a sweater and a scarf. In short, I'm having a hard time adapting to the end of summer.

Leaving Turkey was sad although I had a fantastic last night there. Emily and I flew from Olimpos (through Antalya airport, where our waiter told me I was beautiful and gave me gum to prove it) to Istanbul. We had pudding in the park by the Blue Mosque and talked to a guy from Istanbul (who said he was not racist but hated Arabs) and a couple from Vancouver. Then we went back to our old haunt, the Sultan hostel, to visit the bartender Murat we had befriended during our stay before. He made us drink flaming Sambuca (and laughed til he was out of breath when we failed miserably) and we all stayed up stupidly late talking and hanging out.

The next day was less pleasant since I was flying from Istanbul to Lyon via London Gatwick. I had a 3 hour layover in Gatwick which lengthened to 6 hours when there was a technical fault with the plane. I didn't get into Lyon until past midnight, when there were no more trains, and had to take a taxi into the city (which I shared with a Japanese woman I had been chatting with). So meeting my parents again after a long absence by waking them up in the middle of the night was not quite the reunion I had pictured.

Still, I'm enjoying travelling with them. The money (and hence the wine and coffee) flows more freely than when I travel with other penniless young adults like myself. My Dad is having a blast taking photos; while he fiddles with iso settings and lenses and apertures, Mom and I people watch and comment on passerbys' fashion.