Of memorable travelogues

It was the summer of 2010. I was doing an internship at a research organization in a small town near Venice. One fine day, frustrated with the monotony of life, I decided to spend the weekend in Paris. I reached out to a few friends, only to realize that everyone either had prior plans or was skeptical of travelling at such a short notice. That didn't deter me though and I went ahead to book my flight tickets. Without thinking about anything else, I packed my ruck-sack and left for Paris the next day.

I reached Beauvois Airport (an airport located at a distance of 85 km from Paris and used mainly by low-cost airlines) at 11 pm in the night. I decided to skip the last bus to the city with the hope of spending the night at the airport and saving some money for other adventures. A few minutes later, airport officials asked me and a handful of others still at the airport to vacate the area. The airport had to be shut down at night.

It was pouring briskly outside. There weren't any means of transport available and we had to restrict ourselves to the enclosed area of a bus stand that seemed to be a few hundred yards away. We were drenched and cold by the time we reached there. 

A few hours later, when the rain had cleared up, we could see a jeep coming towards us. At first, we ignored. But, as it passed by, its brakes suddenly squeaked and a group of extremely sloshed people started walking towards us. They looked like thugs. I could do nothing but stare at them. They bombarded us with questions in an unintelligible language. We couldn't understand a word. We just tried to explain that we weren't in any better situation than them. They seemed clueless but perhaps realized, to our surprise, that we weren't the best people to mug. They were kind enough to leave us with a few abuses in "the unintelligible language". We heaved a sigh of relief.

They went ahead, found a few airport officials smoking outside and started shouting at them. Abuses in "the unintelligible language" were being passed on from both directions. We couldn't understand a word but kept our eyes fixated at them. Then, something happened and the parties suddenly started fighting. One of the thugs took out his shotgun and shot a bullet towards the sky. There was silence after that. The officials, certainly terrified by then, took out their wallets and offered them to the thugs, who grabbed them willingly, got into their jeep and drove away. We could hear evil laughter followed by a few more gun-shots. The officials quietly went back.

We were terrified and decided to hide somewhere. Luckily, we found a place in the wilderness. It was quiet again. Gentle breeze was running across the lush green bushes. Rain droplets on the leaves were shining in the dim light. I kept breathing the atmosphere of sorrow. And, the very first thing I did the next day was to go to Paris and book a hotel. Everything was awesome thereafter.