Woke up early to get brekkie and explore the city. Had croissants and an apple compote – how very continental! Took the train to Notre Dame where a girls choir were singing. Even in the early morning, Paris is very hot. Its also stuffed with tourists – sometimes it’s hard to move for them. There seem to be plenty of army people around with huge guns – “that’ll keep them in line”.

We looked around the Notre Dame crypts, which I wouldn’t recommend on the fact that there is nothing to see, and then walked to the Louvre. It’s been a few years since I was last here, and everything seems to have shrunk a little. Growing up does that sometimes. Afterwards we walked to the Arc de Triomphe, which was stunning; well worth the 290 steps in the 35 degree heat. Paris is a gorgeous city, even if the locals are sometimes rude (and they really are, especially in the service industries, although everyone in the train stations was incredibly helpful – it all balances out). We walked (noticing a theme here?) to the Eiffel tower where the queues to go up (either the steps or the elevators) were huge – several hours in the blistering sunshine. We’d all done it before so we relaxed and played cards in the shade of a park next to the tower.

In the evening I tried to use the cyber-cafe across the road from the hotel. He was just closing as I arrived and asked how long would I be. I replied “just a few minutes” in my finest schoolboy French and after tying up a few loose ends online, he charged me just 50c. I had one 50c coin, and no other change, so I didn’t tip him. Guilt plagued my evening.

Things really are different here than at home: Parisians are mad, they’re typically French and utterly insane drivers – they love to use their horns and get frustrated at each other, sometimes driving so close they have to reverse, Cafes are open until “late”, their tables spilling out into the wide streets. That said, it’s not too difficult to see why people love to live here, it is a fantastic city.
In the evening there was a huge thunderstorm that literally shook the city. Claps of thunder and lightning lit the city from above for brief fractions of a second. It was beautiful and scary at the same time – it would have been fascinating to have been on top of the Eiffel tower.

In the summer of 2006, I was lucky enough to travel around Europe with two friends. We travelled via train, using Inter-Rail tickets. This is my account of the stories, written at the time in my diary, later uploaded to the web for posterity.
Disclaimer:

• Some bits had to be edited out, as other people are entitled to their privacy..
• These are my opinions. I wrote this diary mostly at night, when I was very tired and perhaps a little inebriated (just once or twice..) or whilst on a train.
• It’s a random collection of the thoughts that run through my head and the things that I noticed. Europe is a funny old place.

If you’re planning on going Inter-Railing, then read on; you’ll know what to expect. Enjoy.

Today’s the big day, the day we’ve been looking forward too for a long time – the day it begins. We’ll be flying from Exeter, England to Paris, France. Whilst sitting at the airport, we only notice small planes, of the propeller variety, which is a little worrying. When we board we find out that we too will be flying in what seems to be barely more technically advanced than a Spitfire. Fantastic. At least if your in a 747 and you crash the propellers wont crash into you, which i spent the entire journey watching spinning several feet to my left. At least that’d be an instant death.  However, on the plus side, the plane contained enough random people so that if we crashed on a tropical island (somewhere between England and France), we would be able to make a good tv show, from which week by week we could relay our lives (with flashbacks!) to the world.  A truly unique idea.
We played Pirates of the Caribbean Top Trumps which were a gift from Rich. I lost every game, and Daza won nearly all of them.
When arrived in Paris at 9pm, and it was still very hot. We follow the terrible sign-posting and managed to get a train across to the city to Gare du Nord, which happens to be “only minutes” from our Hotel. It turns out that hotels exaggerate “only minutes” in order to get business. We dumped our gear and went out to explore the city. After some fantastic pizzas we found a typical Parisian cafe/bar in the street and watched the world go by. Ali and Daza were tempted into ordering large beers by the goading waiters, only to find that they were about 3 pints in size. After closing time we went back to the hotel where Daza and Ali discussed “thinking out of the box”, politics and tax until 3am. I can only hope this isn’t going to become the norm.