Cheerio! Is anyone else baffled that I have been here for almost a month? I can't decide if its felt like that long or not, but thinking about my 1 month Kent-iversary approaching kinda makes me want to cry! While it has been nice settling into a routine and establishing myself as a student, what hasn't been so nice is the sickness that I have, at this point, simply grown accustomed to. I'm not one to complain, and if you know me you know that I hate, hate, hate missing out on anything. Particularly, anything fun. As a result, I have been struggling to find the thin line between thinking "You're only here for 3 months, Cam! Suck it up and go have fun! You can sleep when you're dead!" and doing what my body wants to do, which is sleep. The former mode of thinking is what led me to embark on a 6-hour birthday bar crawl in Paris with a hoarse voice and a fever...
Nope, not the wisest decision I've ever made but who ever made wise decision whilst living in a foreign country? I was sick and tired of being sick and tired and I wanted to make the most of being in Paris and making memories. And yes, it came back to bite me. In a big way. (For those wondering, I literally--not figuratively, slept for 2 days straight upon my return. And yes, I am finally feeling better).
But enough dwelling on my never ending health problems, lets recap the adventures I found myself in in PARIS! If you thought Whitstable was a wild ride, then you are in for a treat. This trip really was one to remember and because of that, I'm going to break it down into parts. Part I: Getting There.
Lets talk about this overnight bus situation. Turns out what none of us quite realized is that buses don't go over water. Yes, what we thought was a straight shot to Paris ended up being...
- 11:30pm; The time the bus was scheduled to leave from Canterbury station.
- 12:15pm: The time the bus actually arrived to pick us up.
- Zero: The number of chairs available on the bus, forcing us to wake up grandmothers, sleeping babies, puppies and veterans from their slumber and ask to take the window seat next to them.
- 3 old women who yelled at me for hitting them with my darn neck pillow as I walked down the aisle.
- 4 sleeping pills taken by each of us, not realizing that the first leg of the journey was only a 45-minute bus ride and we would have to wake-up every 20 minutes to be hustled to the next mode of transportation...
- An "Ellis Island"-esque mob scene as we left the bus and went through customs on the ferry loading dock...at 1:30am.
- 2 hours: The amount of time we had to sit on the bus after being informed that because our driver was late, we missed our ferry and would have to wait for the next one.
- Infinite: The number of times I wondered if this bus were chitty chitty bang bang and how the heck it was going to go across water on a ferry.
- 2 chairs that made up a bed once we got on the ferry and realized that all of the couches were taken.
- Endless: the amount of times we each questioned our sanity, health, and whether we were actually going to end up in Paris by the morning.
- 6: Flights of stairs that we ran up and down on the ferry trying to find where our bus had parked once the ferry ride was over (3:30am)
- 1/2cm: the amount of leg/arm/breathing/coughing space I had to sleep on the bus for the second leg of the trip.
- 1 bottle of dry shampoo that fell out of my backpack that fell out at some point during transit, never to be seen again. (Thankfully the only casualty of the trip)
- 2 packages of tissues that I used to blow my nose/cough/essentially spread the plague to those around me.
- 4 hours to arrive in Paris, with each of us taking turns being awake enough to ensure we did not miss our stop.
- 2 creepers who tried to scam us into buying a train pass worth 98 euros.
- 1.80 euros for what we actually paid for our metro ticket. (6:00am)
- 45 minutes on the metro, featuring us with our bags (both in hand and under our eyes) and relief that we actually made it to the city of Paris.
- 3: the number of attempts it took after getting off the metro to figure out which direction was the correct one to our hostel (7:00am)
- 25 minute uphill walk to our hostel.
- Priceless: The utter joy, relief and happiness I felt when my lips touched that first sip of life-giving espresso.
...and then we were in Paris. Told you it was a doozy. Lesson learned: it might be worth it to spend the extra 20 pounds on a 2-hour, direct train from Canterbury to Paris. But I digress.
The rest of the weekend included gazing in wonder at how big the Eiffel tower actually is, being the first one to volunteer to try snails and discovering that they are, in fact, delicious. Breaking out into a complete sweat in the middle of a restaurant the moment my fever finally broke, coming out of the shower and finding that my friends had surprised me with the typical yet oh-so-festive "21st Birthday" sash, crown and light up cup. The infamous bar crawl which ended in a 3am trip to McDonalds after learning that all of the metros had stopped running and we were on the other side of Paris (another story for another time). Coming back to our hostel to find 3 gorgeous, Norwegian men sleeping in the bunks next to us. An 8am wake up call and conveniently finding out the Louvre is free the first Sunday in October! Exploring the Louvre, Luxenberg Gardens, buying overpriced macaroons, and eating the best crepes of my life. Paris sure was a whirlwind, in the best way possible! But go ahead and see for yourself :)
