Paris: Day 2.

It was quite a chilly day, and rain was forecasted so I wore a dress with tights and packed my cardigan into my TopShop handbag (which I got on sale). We rose bright and early and did all the fiddly things like showering, dressing, make-up etc before heading down to breakfast where we saw the cute British guys again and flirted a little. Breakfast was good. We had a choice of two different type of cornflakes, one was fruity and the other was more chocolate based. There was a pitcher of unlimited orange juice, you got a bread roll with a sachet of margarine and jam. Plus, unlimited hot chocolate and coffee. I detest coffee even the smell is utterly repulsive to me so I had three cups of hot chocolate which wasn't as tasty as the hot chocolate I recall from the French trip we took in Year 8 which was undeniably delicious, but was still sweet and edible especially as I poured half a cup of sugar into it. 

We wanted to cram in all sorts of sights but essentially the only thing we actually managed to cover was the Louvre. We set off for the Eiffel Tower because we knew how to get there pretty easily and then we walked across the Seine thinking we would get a boat tour because everyone had encouraged us to do this back home. We bought tickets to the Batobus which stopped conveniently at all the landmarks in Paris like Musee D'Orsay, Champs d''Elysees etc but before that we spied a gorgeous old green and cream boat that would take us to Montmartre and as we made polite, basic French converstaion, we both made a mental note to definitely do this if we had time. Also, after said conversation we hi-fived like total plebians congratulating ourselves on our first proper French conversation in Paris. Go us!

So we got on the Batobus, which was a nice, simple boat with clear windows and an area where you could sit outside too. The first stop was the Louvre because we had no idea how long we would spend there and we were both so excited to go. I thought the queue would take forever so it made sense that we would go there first. As we stepped off the boat and walked into the direction everyone else was walking in (informational social influence if you're interested, I'm a Psychologist, sorry, I can't help it) we saw the most lovely stone buildings with enormous lions by the entrance, I wanted to curl up and take a picture with me in the lion's lap napping but there were quite a few people milling about. Ieva and I both fell irrevocably in love with the place, it was huge and as we walked underneath the arch admiring absolutely everything we fell a little more. We saw the pyramids, which I dislike, they might be iconic but they definitely detract from the historic feel of the place. We spent an hour crowding around the replica of the Arc de Triomphe taking pictures from every possiblee angle. Eventually we joined the queue which snaked past the fountains, and a cute French guy with oversized sunglasses and the American flag emblazoned on his shorts was blasting music and being obnoxious. 

In the queue, which didn't take nearly as long as we imagined, we looked up at the statues and tried to guess who all these famous French men were, we moaned a bit about sexism (no women were immortalised, assholes) and then decided to give them all personalities and conjured up mini biographies for them. Behind us, were three Americans from the Deep South discussing politics and Raegan. One of the guys was in full out biker gear and can I just say, I admire that man's confidence. He was a dude. 

When we finally got inside and got our bags checked, we went down the escalator and queued for tickets despite not needing any. The place was huge, and we didn't have any maps or anything, there were so many exhibitions advertised that I didn't know where to start, but Ieva wanted to go see the Greek sculptures so we went there first. Long story short, we saw a myriad of sculptures including the Venus de Milo and we learned all sorts of interesting facts like they still to this day don't know where her arm is, we ogled al of these sculptures and Italian paintings, Islamic pottery and scripture, there were wonderful mosaics and in some places the ceilings were a work of art themselves, Egyptian scrolls, and of course we saw the Mona Lisa, though again wasn't that impressed. I did feel quite cool to be able to say that I had seen it though. 

Four hours or so later when we had had our fill, we hopped back on the bus and went to Notre Dame. Researching prior to the trip we had discovered a bookshop called Shakespeare and Co which was said to be a highly recommended hotspot in Paris. As Mass was occurring when we got to Notre Dame we went in search for the bookshop instead, starving we ate on the way. I devoured a cheesy hot dog and a nutella soaked waffle, it was pure heaven. We asked for directions and got talking to some street artists who were so talented and realistic in their sketches of people, and we also had a stilted conversation with a kind old lady painting for pleasure at the edge of the Seine, she was lovely. You could see the kindness radiating off her face, she was so sweet and helpful, modest too when we flattered her painting. 

The bookshop when we found it, had a queue outside, but next door to it was a Rare Book Shop so we dallied in there for a while poring over old books and gasping when something was as old as trees. Shakespeare and Co is amazing though, it's a bottle green shop with gold lettering. Inside it is chock full of books, they are everywhere and it is breathtaking. It can feel quite claustrophobic and even more so when you up the narrow, creaky stairs to the library section but there are cosy places made up for you to sit, there is a piano and typewriters, it's like you have stepped into Dickensian times. Strange and unexpected to find in Paris, the only flaw of this otherwise perfect place is that it is so well-known. It would be more impressive if it was self-discovered and secretive but it is fabulous. 

After the bookshop we wanted to go to Notre Dame but it closed early for some unknown reason so we planned to go to Saint Chapelle instead which I believe is the oldest church in Paris. We approached a kind man on the street but he distracted us with bird seed, literally, he was handing it out to random passers by and they would hold their hands up and birds would fly and peck into their hands while we all gazed at them mesmerised at the beauty this world has to offer. I was thinking of Beauty and the Beast the entire time and it made me fall in love with Paris even more. So we didn't go to the chapel, but there were lots of stalls full of cheap french books that Ieva couldn't keep away from. After she bought her body weight in Dumas novels we each got a Subway and sat on the bench in the sunshine, feeling like we had lived in Paris all our lives, it was most certainly a Kodak moment. 

Eventually, we came to the realisation that we had to do something with our time here. So we settled on going to the Champs d'Elysee to scope out the lay of the land so we would be aware of what we were dealing with when it came to Wednesday. Back on the Batobus, we journeyed to our next destination this time standing outside and taking videos, admiring all the bridges and buildings. The first shope we went to was Disney and I purchased a Belle mug and a large Disney nightgown thing. And then for the first time ever I went to Sephora and I never ever wanted to leave. I had my heart set on finding the Princess Jasmine Storylook palette because it would make my life complete but apparently it is solely an American thing as none of the staff had a clue what I was on about. I did, however, find a Chanel lipstick which was like my lips but better basically and it is called Scenario (83). We went to many more shops, like H & M and Zara and we saw a group of guys dancing in the street which was entertaining to watch especially when they started body-popping. 

It got quite late by then, it was around eleven and dark so we decided to head back. It was beautiful walking at night, with all the lights twinkling we had no concrete idea of where we were going and even though we both had stabbing pains in our feet it was worth it. We walked past lots of pretty, luxurious and heart-clenchingly expensive shops, gazing at the sumptuous window displays was a great distraction from the weariness of our feet. When we saw the Eiffel Tower all illuminated and glowing I think it hit us both that we were in Paris, and well life doesn't get much better than that really. It was such a defining moment for me, I don't think I have ever been that happy since I was a little kid. We took some posey pictures both just high on life because usually we are both camera-shy, but a photo was needed to commemorate that moment. 

Miracle of miracles we managed to find the hostel without the help of maps or relying on the kindness of strangers fir directions. We found it all by ourselves, which makes me really proud. I didn't think we would ever be capable of that, but by this point I was surprised we were still alive we were being so careless. As we got in and unwound, we met the new girl that was staying with us. Her name was Camille and she was from Bordeaux, she had an adorable accent and was here in Paris to go see the exams she would have to take next year, she planned to go to business school and was a really nice girl, calm and quiet, she adores her twelve year old sister and works incredibly hard. I hope she gets everything she wants. We didn't go to sleep until about 3 in the morning even though we were shattered, I just love meeting new people. It brings me joy. Again, I'll add pictures later and I will finish the rest of my Paris Diary tomorrow. Thank you for reading, comment or contact me in whatever way, if you follow me on Twitter I will follow you back. Hope you are all enjoying yourselves.

Paris Diary ❤

Day Un.

Like all accounts I feel I should start at the very beginning, as in why we even decided to go to Paris in the first place. The idea first came into being during the Easter holidays, my friend Ieva who is a total label-whore but I love her anyway is obsessed with this French designer brand called Lancel that from what I can glean specialise in bags and the like. Ever since she was twelve years old she has pined over this bag and wanted to be its possessor, unfortunately it has always been outrageously expensive. Until, of course, a sale.  So she looked into it and discovered there would be a sale and she could order it online but to have it shipped to Lithuania (her native country) from Paris would cost a small fortune. And coincidentally a small fortune is exactly the same amount of money that would be required for an impromptu holiday. She proposed the idea to me, and instantaneously I concurred. Impulsive decisions are always my undoing, but I have wanted to go to Paris for most of my life and was incredibly excited by the prospect. Although, I couldn’t give a shit about this apparently life-changing, mouth-wateringly beautiful bag that resembles a marshmallow (which is my theory why she has coveted it so much); I do give a shit about going to Paris.

A few weeks before the alleged sale we started planning, we booked three nights at Aloha Hostel online and purchased return megabus tickets from Coventry Canon Park to Paris. It was all surprisingly simple. We planned what we wanted to do there, we found a myriad of things and then being brutal we slashed through some that we wouldn’t have time for. We were very ambitious, trying to fit eighteen things into three days and naturally not all of them were actualised.

On Sunday morning, we were scheduled to leave at quarter past six so we could reach Canon Park in plenty of time before our ten past seven coach. In preparation for this and the twelve hour journey ahead of us we opted to skip sleep and watch movies set in Paris instead. WE watched Pink Panther and practiced our own French accents, we had tea and packed and repacked and then packed again. We got to the coach station stupidly early and already hungry we indulged in some Galaxy cake bars. They were damn tasty, even if it was early.

The coach arrived and we sat together, even though in my experience from travelling to Amsterdam by coach, you should always sit by yourself when you are travelling for longer than a few hours. We arrived at Victoria Coach station in London a couple of hours later and went in search of hot food, we came to a café and had sandwiches. The coach trip to Paris was fairly uneventful, we discussed everything that was going on in our lives and infrequently napped, Ieva listened to her mp3 I gazed dreamily out of the window until we arrived at Dover.

We had missed the ferry. I love ferries, and am always unduly eager to board one, I love the rockiness and the smell of the sea, you just feel so fresh on the deck, utterly rejuvenated.  Instead, we crossed the channel via the Eurotunnel which meant we did not get a chance to stretch our legs at all. It was fine, a total of thirty five minutes so although there wasn’t much to look at, at least it was efficient. When we arrived in France, we looked eagerly at the scenery and all we really saw was a whole lot of green which was nice in its own way and then I shamelessly eavesdropped on the two girls behind us who both led very interesting lives. One girl was talking about how she had ran away to join the circus and that the circus was big in France, she had fallen in love with someone’s cousin and time apart was hard but she was very glad to be seeing him soon. The other girl had just graduated and was going to stay with her friend in Paris, she had an interview so she was only stopping for a few days and was very nervous. It was very entertaining.

Soon, Ieva alerted me to the Eiffel Tower and I forgot all about the girls behind me and concentrated on not squealing in delight like a two year old. We reached Porte Maillot Coach Station at seven in the evening and as we left it started to drizzle but not too much. Ieva had written out directions to our hostel and we planned to walk there even though in hindsight this was a crackpot idea. As we left the coach station in search of a street name we might recognise we came across a tiny, pretty building with gates. It was simple but appealing from the outside, and like dutiful tourists we snapped a few pictures and then I ventured inside to discover it was a chapel. A truly gorgeous chapel with stained glass windows, flickering candles and a marble Jesus on the cross. It was lovely, quiet, peaceful and echoing. I fell in love with this little chapel. A woman was there, praying intently she looked like she was in despair although maybe that was my imagination running amok. I like to think she was earnestly repenting and her piety would soon be rewarded. I am not religious by any means but this chapel made me wish I was.

Eventually after taking dozens of pictures and tiptoeing quietly around we left dragging our suitcases silently behind us. It started to rain and by rain I mean pour, we were being assaulted by the skies and not to put too fine a point on it we were miserably lost so we asked for directions. One woman sent us in the wrong direction so we asked another and she was extremely helpful even though she herself had no clue she would ask others. A guy with an iPhone Google-mapped it for us (Thank you God and Steve Jobbs) and we went traipsing back in the opposite direction at which point we saw the Arc de Triomphe from a distance and “fan-girled” for a couple of minutes.  We saw lots of tall, beautiful champagne and pastel coloured buildings that reminded me a little of Prague so of course we clicked away with our cameras, and by then I was desperate for the toilet so I went to a little café and practiced my limited French. The gentleman was very kind and I took ten minutes to freshen up.

We found the Eiffel Tower in due course and went crazy tourist for a good half an hour, with our suitcases we were easy targets and the dark skinned men with Eiffel Tower replicas on key chains pounced on us, but we just shook our heads and soldiered on even though some of the deals they were spitting out at us were quite tempting, one Indian gentlemen even offered one free as a gift which scared the shit out of me but amused Ieva to no end.  We walked far and then we walked a little more, we got lost a couple of times, we asked people directions, luckily the weather had cleared up nicely and we were fine, enjoying Paris. When we finally reached the street of our hostel we were exultant, we honestly didn’t think we would actually find the hostel it took us a good three hours but we definitely felt like accomplished human beings. Proper adults. It was a heady feeling. I think we were high on a sense of independence.

 At about ten pm we reached our hostel and our feet were dying. The man behind the counter was nice but he was very busy he told us to dump our stuff and go get something to eat so he could check us in when we returned, so we dumped our stuff I changed out of my boots because they were pinching my toes and we met two cute British guys in the storage room. We left and it was dark, we had passed so many places for food on the way we knew we wouldn’t have to walk far, we settled on a small Italian restaurant with red checked table cloths and wine already displayed proudly on the tables. We ordered hesitantly in French, Ieva had ham salad and I had Bolognese and Coke. It was good. We got lost on the way back to the hostel even though it was a mere street away and the sense of independence faltered but we found it in the end.

The man behind the counter had changed but he gave us everything we needed, our key cards, freshly laundered sheets, a few maps, times for breakfast etc. Our room number was 32 and we couldn’t find it so we asked the man again and he informed us it was outside so we went outside and trudged up to the highest floor. Our room was nice, there were two bunk beds, a sink and it was situated right next to the bathroom and shower which was handy. The only problem was it was already occupied by three girls whom we easily made friends with. They were all lovely and one tiny girl called Inka who was actually twenty-seven realised she had been in the wrong room all along.

Eventually, after washing and changing we crashed into bed. Ieva slept on the top bunk and every time it squeaked I had a mini heart attack. We planned to get up at seven in the morning eat our fill and then do some serious sight-seeing. There is no rest for the wicked.  I will upload pictures and videos later. Thank you for reading. Je t’aime beaucoup.