Thursday, July 30, 2009

Day 14: Premier Jour à Paris

We left the Oxford Backpackers Hostel and arrived in Paris without incident, using the exorbitant prices of the buffet on the Eurostar as a convenient way to spend those pounds that we would no longer need.

After some initial confusion, (due mostly to the low resolution of the map showing the location of the hostel that we had) we found the place that we will be calling ‘home’ for the next three days. We dumped our bags and made for the Eiffel Tower (by chance we happened to pass a place called Promenade d’Australie) with the intention of climbing as far towards the top as you can get without the assistance of an elevator. This was the optimal solution, as it minimised both queuing time (both for getting onto the structure in the first place, and for the elevators that take you to from the second highest platform to the very top) and price. Interesting fact: they paint the Tower every 7 years, using 60 tonnes of paint.

On the way back to the hostel, we had dinner at a place called “le Shanghai”, which was basically a Chinese take-away pick-what-you-want-from-the-bay-marie place. However, once we had picked what we wanted, it went straight into the microwave to heat it up – presumably the temperature in the bay-marie was set for optimal bacteria growth rather than good serving temperature. I’m quite sure that spring rolls shouldn’t be chewy. If we get sick in the next day or two, we’ll know who to blame!

Our room at the hostel has 6 beds in it. One of those beds appeared to be in use when we checked in. There have now been a total of 6 other people (including us) who have come in to claim a bed. Either management cocked up (which wouldn’t be a complete surprise) or someone didn’t take all their stuff when checking out, and so the cleaning staff haven’t made the bed up for a new guest. It will be interesting to see how this pans out.


2 comments:

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  2. Lol, I did the tight arse thing too and went the stairs... and also thought that fact was interesting!

    "MRS ALLONBY: They say, Lord Hunstanton, that when good Americans die they go to Paris.

    LORD HUNSTANTON: Indeed? And when bad Americans die, where do they go?

    LORD ILLINGWORTH: Oh, they go to America." - Oscar Wilde

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