BUS BLUES TO PARIS

The coach was stuffy, the vibe neutral and the bus driver rude.  This was the environment I was confined to for a gruelling 8 hour bus ride to Paris. Having eventually stopped at a gas station for a toilet break, the girl sitting next to me and I skipped the long queue of the ladies toilet and made a dash for the mens. On our escape from the bathroom, we almost ran over two gentlemen entering the room and giggled like love struck teenagers all the way back to our bus

On arriving at Gallieni station, I couldn't have flung myself into the fresh Parisian air faster. I dabbed my clammy face, collected my luggage, and off I went into the tunnels of the Metro with my ticket in hand. Despite all the rumours of attacks, stabbings and pickpockets on the métro, I made it in one piece to Pyrénées station, where my couch surfing host ,Al, met up with me.

We offloaded my things, freshened up and was taken to the best night time view of Paris; Sacré-Cœur and Montmartre. We walked the quaint streets that were still bustling with tourists, and laughed at personal jokes we had managed to make in the few hours we had known one another. We sipped on beers at a local café whilst conversing about life and other things and when our hunger got the better of us, we devoured crèpes filled with cheese and chorizo.