The final adventure of 2016: Sleeping in homeless shelters in Cherbourg

29/12 - I spent last night sleeping in a homeless shelter a couple of miles away from where I live in Cherbourg.

This was an unplanned adventure that spanned 22 hours in the streets of the city. I was fuming throughout, but at the same time I knew it would be a funny story in the future; It was the unlucky combination of circumstances that made this tale so shitty.

Here are some seemingly unrelated elements which joined forces to become a massive inconvenience to me over this time span, one worthy of documentation:

• I left with a light jacket and a scarf, over a T-shirt and a pair of gloves. 
• The three other people who live in the flat are not here, though I did not realize this at the time. 
• My American bank had locked my debit card, thus disabling my ability to withdraw cash; I have been using a credit card.
• My phone was dead, and I did not have a charging cable.
• Hotels usually close for the night at 9 p.m.

As you read this account, pay attention to all of the places where the aforementioned limitations hindered me. It was a perfect storm of lousy circumstances and bad luck, the kind of foul concoction I might never encounter again. But, also take note of the treatment I received from others throughout the night; They tried their best to help me. Those of Cherbourg have been friendly to me so far, and I have noticed that people tend to automatically switch to English when they hear me speak French. But, I still made myself understood in French, and that alone is an an accomplishment.

The act of traveling almost always calls for critical thinking, because sometimes plans have to dramatically change. You have to find where you will lay your head at night, as well as transportation; it's like a puzzle. But, last night my mind was constantly racing. What do I do? Where should I go? Who should I ask? Though I made some bad decisions fueled by alcohol, it still ended up fine. And now, in the warmth and comfort of my own flat, I can't help but laugh at myself and that situation. Repeatedly.

Finally, I kept a useful quote in mind from the infamous Jack Sparrow, because it would keep me calm: The problem is not the problem. The problem is your attitude about the problem.

It all stemmed from the fact I had left my flat without my key yesterday afternoon to buy groceries.

I decided to wait by the front door of my flat until someone entered or exited. I pressed each doorbell multiple times throughout this time, and I rapped on the windows. After several hours of this and nothing happening, I walked to the Irish pub in the center of town because it has free Wifi. I do not have a French phone number so I couldn't call anyone.

After a couple of beers and my friends being notified of my situation, I learned about the existence of an old lady who lives near me and has a duplicate of my house key. But before I could learn specifically where she lives, my phone died for good. I went back to the flat, thinking someone had returned by now (19:00). No one was there. By this point, more than a few colorful sentence enhancers escaped my mouth.

With the load of groceries in my backpack still a burden and after a brief time pondering a plan on a bench, I walked to another bar near where I live. I had another beer. By this time I hadn't eaten anything for about six hours. Under the inevitable influence of French and Belgian lager, the dark idea of violently smashing the window on the front door entered my conscience. I would NOT spend the night outside. So, I slyly deposited the beer bottle into my backpack before leaving the bar, with the intent of throwing or jamming it into the window pane. With the window broken, I would be able to reach inside and unlock the door.

Back at my flat around 1 a.m., I looked both ways for foot traffic. Nothing. All was quiet. Even the flat opposite me, where television light had been shining through the windows earlier, was dark. I focused on the door window again. I raised my arm as if I were Dracula pulling my cloak around me...WHAM! The cacophonous bang as a result of my elbow slamming into glass seemed to echo more than normal throughout the sleepy street.

I threw my left elbow as hard as I could against the glass three times. Nothing. I tried my right elbow. Nothing. I then resorted to the tin can of red beans in my backpack. As if I were wielding a knife to attack, I jammed the can against the window pane. Nothing, although the tin can has a large dent in it now. Since that didn't work, I decided against using the beer bottle because it was too light.

This is when I began thinking about where I would stay for the night. The temperature was dipping, and I knew I had to protect myself from the cold; my clothes were not adequate for those temperatures so I tried to sleep in a parking garage. It just got colder. I could see my breath. My next thought was to ask the police, wherever I could find a car (I had come across a police car earlier, but decided to break my window instead). Luckily, I found a police car after 10 minutes of searching.

In some broken English and French, they told me they could call a locksmith, but they only take cash. I said this was impossible as I can only use a credit card. They then drove me to a hotel where I could check in using a machine. My card didn't work. The officers looked perplexed and I just stood there helpless, with no idea what to do. They then drove me to a homeless shelter next door to where AS Cherbourg basketball club plays.

Luckily there were beds available, and I got a spacious room with a shower and plenty of blankets, along with a toothbrush, shampoo and towels. It was warm. The woman who checked me in and made a copy of my driver license spoke only French, but I could understand some of what she said, including when she asked if I had alcohol or knives on me. I was thankful to be in the warm; my immediate goal of finding shelter from the cold achieved.

After the sun rose enough to my liking in the morning, I quickly left the shelter and began the walk back to Cherbourg, on a mission to get into my flat. I knew it would happen. I was motivated. But the temperatures had dropped to below freezing overnight, and I was lucky to have found the police. As I walked back to town, a temperature gauge read 0 degrees Celsius - freezing point. There was frost on the ground, and the cold bit my unprotected face.

I visited the tourism office where the woman spoke perfect English. She suggested going to the police station. After some muddled conversation in French at the station (which was a short walk from the tourism office), I got my point across to the woman at the front desk and my address to where to send the locksmith.

When the locksmith arrived and let me into the flat about 45 minutes later, I felt a mammoth sense of relief, but my adventure was not quite finished. He then charged me 90 Euro in cash for minimal work, but since I could not withdraw cash he took my California driver license and told me to meet him in a couple of hours. In the meantime, I asked my friends for help, and fortunately one of them answered the call. After paying the locksmith, a relieved, albeit tired, hungry and thirsty me bought her lunch, my ordeal finished.

What a way to end the year, eh?

30/12 - It's the end of another year. I'll keep this post short, since I've already written a novel for you all.

I visited two new countries in 2016 (Mexico and Portugal) and discovered the joys of Chicago. I benefited from visiting a doctor in Tampico and experienced nostalgia in England, specifically in London and Poole. I found a new home in France, thanks to a wonderful opportunity from a friend.

I felt pure, childlike joy and bliss while riding Ducati motorcycles this year in California. It's a high I don't often feel; those rides left me emotionally drained and my voice hoarse. I feel the most free while riding curves of beautiful roads on a high-performance motorcycle.

But most importantly, 2016 provided me with a chance to rectify the mistake of moving back to Porterville by returning to Europe. This has allowed me to reset my life, so to speak, after a troubling time in the Central Valley of my home state. In Cherbourg, I have been able to learn every day, to think, to discuss, to read, to grow as a person. For that I am thankful.

For 2017, I will continue my ongoing and never-ending education, and it all begins with travel. In January I have a trip (halfway) planned to yet another new country (plural?), but it most likely will not be a happy venture.

This is the final post of 2016. I thank all of you for reading, following along on my adventures and evolution, and keeping in touch. Expect more in 2017. Cheers!