In the bathroom, I plug in my phone charger. Mila frantically Googles hotels with vacancies. This is when the events of the past 48 hours, from the lost luggage to the highway running to the sex dolls, compounded by intense and unparalleled sleep deprivation and hunger, finally sink in. I consider myself a pretty emotionally stable person, but if there’s anything that I could justify as a reasonable stimuli for distress, it’s the sight of two sets of disembodied humanoid legs. So I do what any rational person does when they are quarantined in a stranger’s bathroom in Cannes: I start sobbing.

Luckily, Mila is level-headed enough to calm me down. We start telephoning relatively cheap hotels. They’re all completely booked, or they have one suite left, which costs 1000 euros per night. Another costs 800. Affordable! So affordable! A bargain! A real steal!

Finally—blessedly—a hotel seven minutes away says they have a vacancy for two adults. It’s 400 euros a night, but at this rate, we have already been in an apartment that feels vaguely like the set of “The Exorcist” for too long. We book the room. We hightail it out of there and leave the key under the mat.

Once in the hotel room, we decompress. I cry a little more, residually, out of sheer relief. We both call our parents. We book a new hotel room for the rest of the stay, which is cheaper than 400 euros per night, but not by much. But after the harrowing ordeal we have endured today, we are willing to bite the bullet and drop some cash.

So in short, Mila and I have been in Cannes for approximately 10 hours, and we have not seen a single movie, much less met any celebrities. But at least, we are happy to inform you that we are no longer cohabitating with sex dolls, which has set the new bar for the quality of my travel. If there is no sex doll encounter, I will have had a really solid vacation.

Tune in tomorrow for the next installment of Cannes Par Jour! Bizarrely, and I never thought I would say this, but hopefully, it will be completely devoid of sex dolls. (We make no promises.)

—Staff writer Caroline A. Tsai can be reached at caroline.tsai@thecrimson.com. Follow on Twitter @carolinetsai3.