I got up at 5am to catch my first train to the border of France. There isn't a train, unfortunately, that goes all the way. I caught a small local train leaving every 20 minutes to a little border town in Spain. Then from there, I was able to secure a seat on a train directly bound for Paris. The whole ride only took about 6 and a half hours, mostly thanks to France's high speed TGV trains.
When I finally arrived, I walked through the train station trying to learn everything I could about the layout of Paris. I found some bus maps, and a map of metro lines, and studied them carefully. I couldn't find any map of the city, but there were special orientation maps which showed the small area where around the station. I pointed myself in the direction of the most populated street and began walking toward what I'd gathered was the center.
I found a couple hotels right near the station, and despite the fact that I didn't really like the location of them, I knew it was going to be difficult to find an open hotel in Paris at this time, so I asked in each of them if there were any available rooms. None of them had any, however I was able to score a map from one, and a brochure of tourist sites. I sat there outside on the steps and opened my map. I found where I was, and studied the landscape. There was a large street heading up right to the Eiffel Tower, and like any tourist coming to Paris, that was the first place I wanted to go. I loaded up, and decided I'd head that direction looking for a hotel.
On the map, The Eiffel Tower didn't seem so far away, in fact even when I first began to see it poking up over the buildings, I thought I was almost there. However, the closer I thought I was getting, the bigger it just seemed to get, and I was getting no closer. Each hotel I came to along the way I entered, and each one told me they had no more room. So on I hauled, my whole life on my back, until I finally came to the spot where the base of the Eiffel Tower met firmly in the ground.
There was a beautiful park right there under the Eiffel Tower, and many people were having picnics and resting in the shade of tall trees. I joined them, pulling my backpack up against a tree in the shade of the Tower, and rested there for a while as I marveled at the structure before me.
I kept walking all the way down the river to where the Louvre stands, and still found no hotel to accommodate me. Once again, I found myself contemplating the idea of sleeping in the streets for a night. However, sleeping on the streets of Paris may not be the smartest move when it comes to safety. I know a lot of people back home who would kill me (If a crazy Frenchman didn't first) if they found that I put my life at such unnecessary risk. I'm sure somewhere in Paris there's a hotel with an open room, even if it has to be a 4 star resort.
A waiter at a french cafe gave me a tip about a certain area further north which has a row of several cheaper hotels, mostly 2 and 3 stars. I followed his lead, and took the metro up to the area he told me to go to. It seemed to be kind of a little Italy. There were Italian restaurants all over, and hotels with Italian names. It took me a while, but I finally found a hotel with one room left. It was a really nice room, and I had to pay 110 euros for it, which is almost double what my hope was, but I was happy to be off the streets for one more night.
For some reason, Paris is some divine meeting spot for many people I've met on my journey so far. Cara and Carolyn, the girls from the Vienna hostel, go to school here; Vivian, the girl from China whom I met on the train back from Pompeii in Naples, is living with some friends here for the month; and Peter and Kyle from the hostel in Portugal, are now here traveling in Paris. It's great that I'll be able to see them all again. I've kept in contact with them since I've left them, and so now we've all been trying to arrange this time in Paris to meet and hang out again.
Tonight Cara and Carolyn wanted to meet up, and show me a little of Paris life. I met them at Villier metro station. They said they lived just a couple blocks from there. They introduced me right away, to some of their friends and together the 6 of us headed out down the street. They brought with them, a bottle of cheap french wine and 6 plastic cups, and we picked up one more bottle on the way. For dinner we stopped at a Crepe stand and I was introduced to my first ham and cheese Crepe. We walked down through the classy red-light district past the Moulin Rouge, carrying our Crepes and cheap wine. We couldn't have been more French. I say "classy" red-light district because it was certainly nothing like any other red-light district I've been in. It was a really clean and nice part of town. Tourists and rich people (mostly men), swarmed the streets. There were hookers and pimps on the corners, but they were the cleanest and best looking I'd seen in Europe. They were really more like show girls rather than prostitutes. It was a lot like the strip in Las Vegas. Everything was a spectacle, but with a strong overtone of sex. I had thought I might go see a show at the Moulin Rouge just to say I'd done it, but at 100 euros minimum per ticket I'll sit that one out.
We walked on to the bohemian area, where the famous artists and writers used to hang out, and still do. The cafes were cheap, and loaded with artistic looking college kids gathered around tables, smoking and philosophizing. That area looked exactly how I imagined the bohemian part of Paris would look. We continued on through Bohemia and walked up the endless stairs of Montmartre till we finally reached the top and the foot of Sacre Coeur. It was already a party by the time we got there. There were young people sprawled out, scattered all over the stairs. Some of them had guitars and everyone had a drink. The girls explained to me that this is the big hang out point for the youth of Paris, largely because of the amazing panoramic view of the city lit up at night, from the top of the stairs. It was indeed amazing. I couldn't believe I was here right now in Bohemia sitting with the locals, drinking crappy wine and watching the famous monuments all lit up like a garden of christmas trees. We drank, and talked and told stories. As we descended the stairs later that night, I told them of my adventures since they'd last seen me. I came back to the hotel with a surreal feeling, and overwhelming joy of one great night in Paris.
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