Chapter 11 of my autobiographical novel of backpacking thru Western Europe in 1973 at age 18. Still feeling the loneliness of traveling by myself, and the resulting urge to cut short my trip and head back home, I finally get to Paris to visit my mom’s friend Giselle and her family. But after an initial tour of the city with my host, again on my own, I feel even more alone and anonymous in the big city and where the youth hostel I’m staying at feels more like a homeless shelter. Contains some adult language, plus sexual and drug references.
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