Parler Vous Franglish?

I have a problem. I'm in a bus station in rural France and I'm down to €60. My visa is being declined, ditto for my debit. I use €20 to purchase my ticket to really rural France before I realize that my cell phone won't work to text my host in really really rural France to tell them to pick me up. I'm exhausted after a seven hour car ride spend trying to speak french with my covoiturage (ride share0. The pay phone only takes credit cards, the vache at the information doesn't feel like helping me and I'm foobared eight ways and counting.

So, what do I do? Do I cry? Do I quit? Do I pack my bags and start walking home?

I consider all of the above but decide instead that this is the perfect time to eat the meringue that has been stowing away in the bottom of my pack since I left Paris. There's a little voice inside my head reminding me that I have no right to be upset. This is the adventure I wanted and nobody said it was going to be easy. I chose this and I'll figure it out.

Happily, I can say that I did, all on my own (with a little help from the meringue).

I made it from one end of France to the other taking the less easy, but easily more rewarding, path less traveled. I saw the earliest settlements of towns in Europe, practiced my french, got to hear fun historical facts from my french guide, and saw breathtaking landscapes for half the price of the train.

Was it worth in? Right now I'll have to abstain from answering that. I just got off of the phone with Visa and I'm still a little riled up after tearing a stip off of Rajid my friendly customer service representative who didn't seem to comprehend "I'm calling from France!!" But, give me a few days a hot shower and a glas of wine to ease these shaking nerves and I'm sure be "yes" or at least a very convincing "probably."