At the station I tried calling my friend, but there was no answer. My bag was heavy, I was tired, I was alone, I tried to look nonchalant. As I turned away from the phone a young man started to talk to me. He was Arabic. He was a student. He was very sympathetic. I could come and sleep on his floor.
I try to assure him that I am fine, but he stays with me as I call again. He offers to carry my bag, I say it's OK. Then another man attaches himself to us. He is older, also Arabic. Both hang by me as the time ticks on and I return again and again to the phone box and get no answer. Now it is 10:00p.m. I am panicking as I trail around the station with these two men. I feel battened on and can't defend myself in words, because although I can understand every thing they say (they are speaking French) when I try to reply, only Spanish comes out.
I am close to crying. I tell the men that I just want to be left alone. They tell each other to leave me alone. They start to argue in Arabic. I suddenly suspect they are not rivals for me, but in some weird way in league. The student offers his floor and again I refuse. The other man waves his arms dismissively at the student and says I can stay in the station, its perfectly safe, many travellers sleep here all night. I rush around carrying my luggage and they are constantly one on each side of me. I find a station employee, and while asking about hotels, am told I must hurry to get out of the station because it is closing in 20 minutes. I look angrily at the second man who shrugs, "It closes, really? I thought not."
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