Day 10 – 11 – D-Day part 2 / Profound Paris…

or how when in Paris, one does like a Parisians and cycles around Paris in the rain.

There we were the start of our full on tour around Europe! 13 countries in 28 days and we were raring to go as we waited at the reception of the hostel. You could sense the excitement building up, and it was almost like an explosion of energy as we were given the green light to board the bus. As the bus made its way to the ferry at Dover for us to head over to wonderful gay Pari, we soon noted that Kiwis outnumber the Aussies. Excellent, it looked like the shoe would be on the other foot this time, as usually it’s the other way round. Additionally there were more women than men, 33 vs. 11. Could this mean that women tend to be travellers more than men? An interesting topic to discuss some other time perhaps.

Jumping on the ferry to Calais, it felt like it was our first day at primary school again. We sheepishly introduced ourselves to other people on the tour, and before you knew it people were chatting and laughing away at funny jokes and anecdotes. We met some interesting characters like Shane who was from the Australian Navy, and epitomized the typical cliché of an Australian, With his thick back country accent and stories that seemed to start with “This one time in the Navy” always had the group in fits of laughter and was quite the lively character. As per his navy training, this lively fellow had packed for almost any scenario imaginable, and was massively overweight when he flew into London to start. We remarked that all he was lacking was his own nuclear power station – which I am sure he had on back order anyway. I first noticed him as his loud aussi voice cut through all the other voices on the bus. He was busy explaining to a poor traveller (who he had cornered in the window seat of the bus) that he had been dared by his navy colleagues to get a picture taken of himself at the Eiffel Tower wearing only a mankini. Now for those who don’t know what a manikini is can look here , but I warn you may end up scratching your eyes out shortly after seeing what it is. There was Amanda, who was the most random person id ever met, and could go off on more random tangents than myself. Some of the topic she’d discuss would have even me scratching my head going “What? The sheer mechanics of that are mind boggling”. This was going to be a very eventful trip I mused, very eventful indeed.

Now due to yet another strike (we must have brought the one from Britain over with us) the ferry was delayed by more than an hour. Not that we complained, we just utilised the extra time in spacious ferry chairs to get to know everyone better. Eventually we had to move on, and we found ourselves on our way to Paris. Once there we were immediately led to our first French dinner. It was here that I was to finally get to try escargot and frog legs. To be honest eating the escargot was more straightforward than eating frog legs. Unfortunately I’m the sort of person who likes meat, but doesn’t like to recognise where his meal came from. With the frog legs, you knew exactly where the meal was coming from. Usually its worse for me when the meal has its eyes intact and it sits there staring deploringly back at you, going “whhhhhy, why are you eating me? What did I do to you?” I’m pretty sure that’s why I don’t like seafood, with fish and their damning eyes, cutting through me to my quivering soul.

In fact, to be honest the frog legs looked like a lot like minature human baby legs! It took an immense effort to get over this fact. I did eat the frog lets in the end, which tasted a bit like fishy chicken. Though, an interesting observation that almost everything that’s not red meat seems to taste like chicken. Strange that… I wonder if theres something to the scene in the Matrix where one of the villains discusses how the machines couldn’t figure out what some foods tasted like, so they made everything taste a bit like chicken. So the more important question here really being… Are we in the matrix? but lets leave that rant some other time methinks.
Now our accommodation Paris was pretty good, except for the fact that when you had a shower, no matter how hard you tried you couldn’t stop a huge pool being created on the bathroom floor. I was the first to identify/cause this. Regardless, Brent didn’t believe a word I said about not meaning to cause the flooding. However, after his attempt at having a shower had the exact same disastrous outcome, even the unbeliever Brent had to admit defeat. He retracted his initial statements that I had been lying, and confirmed to the others that I indeed hadn’t had a shower on the bathroom floor as he had previously stated!

After showers and dinner a group of us scurried off to the Eiffel Tower, and boy was it spectacular! With the tower lighting up like a Christmas tree every hour on the hour. If I didn’t know better, Id say it was taking pictures of everyone, like a frenzied paparazzi entourage on speed. Anyway, luckily for us there weren’t very long lines at the Eiffel Tower at 10 at night. Once at the top of the Eiffel Tower, and while staring out at the beautiful Paris skyline, we spotted the Champs de Lyses. So, we bravely decided it was near enough to do a quick trek to. As with most things spotted while high up in the air, objects seem further than they actually appear, especially when navigating the back roads of Paris at night. While on our journey to our objective, the Gods decided that a good down pour was called for. Lets just say, memories of London came flooding back, literally and metaphorically speaking. However, after much backtracking and finger pointing we arrived, wet yet surprisingly upbeat at our destination. Several quick photos were taken to ensure that our cameras didn’t get too wet. Now came the conundrum of how to get home? The hotel was miles away, so it was decided to take a Parisian taxi.

For some reason, while there seemed to be hundreds (no exaggeration) of taxis, not a single one appeared free. It was as if the whole of Paris had decided to take a taxi for a trip around Paris! After much gnashing of teeth we did eventually find a taxi, which we provided for the first group. Almost immediately we started regretting having given up what was surely to be our only salvation to the first group. Just before a full blown mutiny erupted within our group a taxi came to our rescue. We promptly dove into the taxi before he could change his mind, and decline us drowned rats. Soon, we were off like a rocket careening to the stars… Literally. Our driver had one hand on his phone, another on the steering wheel, and I’m not quite sure how he was changing gears. As we shot onto the highway the worst of the rain decided to kick in. The driver must have taken this as a sign from God, for the driver decided to put his foot down. In seconds we were doing 140km/hr in an 80 km/hr zone. Initially this was all good fun, till Brent decided to mention that one of the tunnels we’d past looked like the one Diana was killed in. All of a sudden I looked for any handhold available, as there didn’t seem to be any seatbelts around. One can only conclude that, to save precious weight for speed, the driver had removed these unnecessary items. Finally, and safely we screeched to a halt outside our hotel (ahead of the 1st taxi I must add). Hands trembling, and knees wobbling we handed over the fare with a huge tip. No one could decide whether it was for the free rollercoaster ride, or the fact that we were so glad to have survived and money didn’t really matter anymore, Ill leave that up to you to decide.
Breakfast in the morning was quite good indeed – with croissants and bacon. Being the hunter gatherer that I am, I made sure to accidentally drop a couple of bacon filled croissants into my bag as a snack for later. The shocked stares of the French patrons or the fact that Ryan hid his face made no difference as I could also see several of the other girls bravely following suit.

That day we had a free day, to travel around and the only thing we had to rush back for was a bike tour around Paris at 3. So Ryan, Amanda, Amy and I decided to do a mission around the city, with Notradam at the top of our list. While wandering along the river Seine, Amanda proposed that we have a crème brulee along the way. Not being one to pass up any culinary delight, especially if it involved sweet things, I tagged along. So now for those who don’t know this, in Paris, there are different prices depending on where you sit at a restaurant. Initially we sat outside (which is meant to be more expensive). Amanda had already utilised the facilities inside so as we pulled up anchor and decided to move to the inside of the restaurant (which was cheaper), with Amanda leading the way. As we walked in, we weren’t sure if the inside was going to be cheaper as the inside was extremely plush and regal. Additionally, we knew something was amiss when another posh waiter approached us and asked us what we would like to eat. Hmm, we’d already ordered, so why was this other waiter approaching us? As I attempted to explain in my very basic French, more French reinforcements decided to turn up including the manager. Finally seeing that my French wasn’t going to cut the mustard and explain the situation we were in. We decided to take the entire noisy group outside to the other waiter who had served us. As we stepped outside and our original and extremely irate waiter stormed up to us, it suddenly dawned on us that Amanda had utilised the wrong restaurants toilet, and had led us astray. We now had a lot of grumpy French men and women on our hands. We hastily beat a retreat into the correct restaurant, before a riot broke out and they lynched us all. Only to be faced with a chilly reception from our waiter, who quite openly voiced his irritation in English under his breath, but making sure we heard. None the less the crème brulees were great, and I had a delicious champagne and raspberry drink that complimented the desert perfectly.

The tour around Notradam was amazing; especially with a sudden cloud burst allowing us to see the gargoyles in action firsthand. I was extremely soaked, but ecstatic. Luckily the rain was reasonably warm and didn’t chill one to the bone, so I didn’t mind too much. The downside to the rain was now we were running late for the tour. We ran to the first Metro we could find, Amanda efficiently shot through the ticketing process, so did I, but Ryan had to be different. Nothing Ryan tried would work. He had no coins on him, and the only ticket machine in the station seemed to have taken a dislike to his credit card. The precious minutes slowly ticket away, and it looked more and more certain that we were not going to make it to the tour on time. Powerless to help him from behind the barrier I had already crossed, several well flung credit cards of mine were to no avail (every time Ryan would walk to me for some proposed solution he would lose his place in the line – so throwing him my solutions were the only option left to me). Finally, an American group (you can hear them coming a block away) came trundling down, and we yelled out to them for change for a fiver. Luckily they did have change, though they took Ryans five Euro note, handed over 2 Euro and began walking away. I don’t know about you but that math didn’t stack up with us. So, yet again Ryan lost his place in the line, as he bolted after the Americans demanding the rest of his change.

Triumphant, Ryan finally paid for his ticket and he made it through the turnstile without another moment to spare. We ended up having to sprint the distance from the train stop to the start point of the bike tour, but we made it even though we were 10 minutes late. Out of breath, we successfully joined the ranks.
So there I was, zigzagging all over the place, attempting not to kill fellow cyclists, pedestrians or motorists since I haven’t cycled in over a decade, and I’m sure the setup of my cycle didn’t help either. I fondly starting calling my new cycling technique the “sidewinder”, Brent nodded approvingly of this nickname, while dodging yet another swift and deadly swerve from my end. Overall, the bike trip around Paris was a very different and interesting way of seeing Paris, so much so even the rain couldn’t ruin it.

A great way to finish up Paris as the sun set over the horizon and lit up the Eiffel Tower in hues of red and orange. The next day we were to head off to my biggest adventure yet. Switzerland.

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