Paris

Paulina and I have been traveling for three straight weekends. We have been living out of duffel bags. We are tired as shit. No matter, Paris, here we come!

Now the plan wasn't to go to Paris so soon. It's right here, we can go whenever. But the plan was for Shubert and me to meet in Paris. Paulina finds a hotel that's allegedly in Montmartre (it's not) and we book it for three people. Our train gets in a little late and we get lost trying to find the hotel because Parisian metro is retarded.

Sidenote, whoever told me Parisian metro is nice should be slapped. It's worse than the subway. I'd rather be on a 6 train going to Pelham than on any Parisian metro at night. The only credit I can give to their system is that they're more advanced than we are. They have the arrival times of the trains on a big board - the next one and the one after it.

We get into the miserable hotel and find Shubert sleeping on the top bunk. We wake him up, go eat and then go to the Sacre-Coeur basilica since we're near it (that's how far we are from central Paris. We're near the Sacre-Coeur. Whatever). We walk around and take pictures. Get the obligatory Nutella crepe, the usual. Coming back from Dublin I didn't feel well and I felt like I was walking a tightrope between sick and healthy... but something didn't feel right to me that Thursday.

We get back to the hotel and go to bed and it is the hottest fucking room I've ever been in. It was hot and stuff and just miserable. The air didn't move and the windows don't open because apparently it's a security thing. Wtf... really, I'm going to kill myself in Paris? Give me a break.

I wake up in a horrid mood because I didn't sleep and I am pretty sick. The feeling of wanting to die starts now. Shubert turns into a slave driver. We SEE EVERYTHING that one day. We were basically walking nonstop for about 12 hours. We saw the Arc de Triomphe (my life is almost complete, I can finally cross that off), Notre-Dame, the Louvre, the Eiffel Tower, the retarded Statue of Liberty, Hotel des Invalides, and probably other nonsense I can't remember. I was so sick and fed up I just had it with him.

My parents told me they were coming into Paris and my mother gave me the name of their hotel so we get down there and after looking and waiting, the concierge sees my dad and I yell, "PAPAAAAAAA!" and he and my mother run across the street. I tell them I'm sick so we go upstairs to their room where my mother gives me a ton of pills, my dad gives me money and some of the other stuff I requested. We get back to our hotel and somehow Shubert figures out how to open the window and I go to sleep in a drugged up and cool-air stupor.

Saturday morning wake up - I am even worse. Crap. We head to Versailles to meet Stephanie and Jessica. After schlepping around Versailles for several hours I have the idea to change my ticket and come back to Lyon that night. Paulina and I hop on a train at 8 and get to Lyon around ten. Self-medicate and pass out. Very good decision.

Thoughts on Paris, second time around: I think Paris is a dump. Yeah, around the monuments it's nice, but generally speaking, it's not a nice place.

I'm just thrilled we're taking the next few weeks off from traveling. I'm too tired and miss Lyon friends.