The Naughty Paris Guides had arrived in France, but were being held hostage at the Port of Le Havre by bureaucrats who were in no hurry to move things along. So Heather decides to rescue them herself...

Paris, Monday, 8am:
I have a reservation for a Kangoo, a cross between a truck and a minivan. When I arrive first thing in the morning, they tell me it hasn't been returned yet, but that they have a larger truck with 20cubic meters of space. As I ponder the additional gas and toll fees for a truck, not to mention the pain of parking it, another worker asks me what I'll be hauling. "Just a cubic meter of books in boxes," I respond. "Why don't you take the VW?" The "Touran" looks like a cross between a station wagon and a minivan, but they assure me it will be large enough and can easily haul the 500 kilos of books. I pick up Jeff, my co-pilot for the day, and we're on the road to Le Havre by 9am.

Somewhere near Versailles, 9:15am:
"How do I turn on the headlights on this thing?" (They're not where they usually are). Jeff looks through the manual again for a half hour trying to find out how to turn on the fan without the A/C, but either we're slow or it wasn't possible. We don't need the A/C just yet, but it's forecast to be a hot one.

Le Havre tourism office, 11:30am:
Despite our various maps and printouts of Mappy, we can't find the shipping broker. We actually can't find the street. There is only, apparently, one street sign in Le Havre. I guess that perhaps we should follow all of the other big trucks, but we don't want to get totally lost. No one we ask seems to know where the street is either, so we follow signs to the tourism office. It's probably the nicest part of this industrial town. We now need the A/C. I call the brokers to tell them we're almost there (they leave for lunch at 12:30pm, they inform me).

Shipping broker's office, 12:15pm:
Even with the new improved map of Le Havre, we still have to call the brokers twice to figure out which industrial building is their office. Jeff waits in the A/C while I do the paperwork in their sweltering offices. They give me vague "across from the big office building" directions to the customs offices, and tell me they are definitely open at lunch.

Le Havre Customs offices, 1:05pm:
After driving around without success, we call the brokers back two more times (getting two different addresses) before finally arriving at the customs offices. They inform me that the offices are closed until 2pm. We decide to get out of Le Havre for lunch.

 Honfleur, 1:45pm:
Across the immense Pont de Normandie (cool pic by Jeff), which spans the Seine River where it meets the sea, is an adorable fishing village called Honfleur. It's a typical Normandy village, with slate covered and half-timbered buildings that date back to the 16th century. The whole port is lined with cafés selling crepes and cider, seafood, and ice cream. We grab a seat on the terrace and order moules-frites (mussels and fries). We finish off with some gourmet ice cream next door and head back to Le Havre.

Customs office, take two, 3:30pm:
There is blissfully only one person in front of me at the customs office, but it still takes ages. Lots of filling out of forms (by hand), making photo copies, going upstairs to pay, back downstairs with the receipt, and getting the final stamp of approval. The offices are ugly, depressingly Cold Era looking, and sweltering in the afternoon heat and 70% hulmidity (a huge storm is supposedly on its way). Everyone moves at the speed of molasses. The woman who gives me the final stamp says, half to herself, "The warehouse is still open at this time?" The brokers never told me when they closed. I assumed it was normal operating hours, 6pm...I still think we have plenty of time.

Industrial warehouse zone of Le Havre, 4:35pm:
The brokers had told me that the warehouse holding my books was easy to find. Just take the exit right before the Pont de Normandie. There's a name of the warehouse and the industrial zone called, randomly, Rogerville. There are, however, three industrial zone exits before the bridge, and the one that says Rogerville is not the correct one. On our second trip over the bridge (to turn around yet again), Jeff actually sees the warehouse from the bridge (it has its name painted on the side). Of course, we still end up taking the wrong access road and have to continue for a few kilometers before we're able to turn around.

When we arrive at the warehouse, we're told to repark because we'll get squashed by the big trucks. I finally get out and run up the stairs at the doorways with the "office" sign. Up on the second floor they tell me it was the other door (where I had passed a woman outside smoking). I go back down, and the door is closed. I can't get it to open, but the window next to it is open, and I see the woman who was smoking, along with two others. "Excuse me, how do I open the door?" (I'm talking in French, FYI) "We closed at 4:30pm, come back tomorrow morning, 8:30am." I look at my watch, it's 4:35pm. "Please, I can't come back in the morning, I rented a truck to come up from Paris for the day. It's just one pallet, I promise we'll be quick!" No one looks at me, no one says anything. I'm trying to think of something else to say as I stand there baking in the sun. Finally, one of them says, reluctantly, "Come around the back." I'm saved!

I get my paper stamped yet again, then am told to wait at the counter. There are six truck drivers waiting with their papers, too, for a warehouse worker with a forklift to come and get their orders. They tell me that the garage doors close at 5pm, and they all need to get their loads into their trucks or they don't get paid for the night of waiting. I start scanning the pallets, looking for mine, figuring that if I can see it, I can leap onto it and refuse to budge without taking it with me. Luckily, the forklift guys are quick and I don't have to perform any industrial disobedience to get my books. We load up the boxes and head for the highway back to Paris.

Paris, Naughty Paris HQ, 7:30pm:
Most of the drive back was smooth sailing, except for an accident on the ring road forcing us to cut through the city during rush hour. The van is supposed to be back by 7:30pm, and we have just arrived at HQ, where we have to unload all 29 boxed and get them up to the 7th floor (thank god the elevator wasn't broken). I decided to take the truck back in the morning instead, and spent 20 minutes driving around looking for a parking place for the night. Just as I was locking up, the storm broke and I got drenched walking the one block home. It felt quite nice, actually, the cool shower.

Mission  accomplished! Operation Rescue Naughty Paris was a success, and the books are now safe and sound at Naughty HQ, ready to be shipped to their new owners. Get yours before they're all gone!