At 7:30am, Siân's alarm sounded its pianistic tones, and she climbed down the ladder to switch it off. The others didn't move.
"Guys, it's time to get up."
Nothing. Three mountains of blankets remained motionless.
"Guys! Guys! Guuuuuys," more insistently now. "It's morning!"
Giving up, she went and switched on the one light switch, filling the room with blinding white light. Muffled groans erupted from Lucy's bunk.
"Turn that back off! I can't see!"
It took a further ten minutes until everyone was wakeful, and Dan required a little persuasion (prodding him with a shoe was sufficient).
Breakfast was a croissant and/or bread as tough as old boots, however we enjoyed the variety of jams available - peach, apricot, plum and strawberry. We had originally planned to visit Versailles on this day, but instead we aimed to get to the Eiffel Tower for 9:30am, when the queues would probably be shorter. It soon became evident that punctuality wasn't going to be our forte, and this plan was abandoned.
The metro station at Anvers, a five minute walk from the hostel, was full of people who knew what they were doing, and at first we were bemused by the whole system. After enquiring in (let's be honest) mediocre French as to how to buy a ticket, we worked out the machines and made our way to the platform. When it arrived, looking much like a mobile tin of French sardine people, we squeezed our way inside and trundled off to Charles de Gaulle Étoile metro station.
We left the subway, wondering where we were, and very soon got the answer in the form of the Arc de Triomphe towering over us. It made sense to visit that first, given its extreme proximity, and we were pleased to discover it was free for 18-25 year old EU citizens. We took our photo with our bae the Unknown Soldier and then began our expedition up Spiral Staircase #2 of the trip. Dan's reaction to seeing the stairs isn't fit to be transcribed on a family blog.
Dragging our feet to an alcove halfway up for a rest, we passed an elderly man with his family.
"It's tiring, this," he wheezed to Siân in a gravelly French voice, "good luck!"
Arriving at the top was, needless to say, a relief, and the 360 degree view across Paris was definitely worth the climb. We circled the rooftop terrace and took pictures of the panorama before returning to ground level and crossing the roundabout towards the Champs-Élysées.
Here, Dan was in his element, window-shopping to his heart's content. We peered through the window of the jewellers' to view watches and bracelets worth more than our student loans. Dan was tempted by a watch, but decided it wasn't his colour. Mitch was far more impressed by the Danish embassy and the Starbucks in the shopping centre (although less so by the prices - "7€ for a chai tea latte, what is this?!").
Following our Parisian promenade down the boulevard, we decided that the McDonald's we'd passed was our best bet for lunch. The McDo's on the Champs-Élysées is no ordinary fast food restaurant. Its floors are marbled, its railings golden and its loos (unusually for France) toilet-seated. Enjoying the typical French cuisine (!), we gorged on Big Macs and the veggie option of fries, plus the gloriously free WiFi.
Resuming our rambles of the capital, we strolled down to the Louvre Museum, passing through the resplendent Jardin de Tuileries (and, of course, having a well-deserved sit down, not once, but twice). After a nutritious Bourbon biscuit and a couple of crisps, we were fortified to visit the Louvre. However, we hadn't prepared ourselves for what greeted us at the glass pyramid - a sign which read "the Louvre is closed on Tuesdays". This was slightly disappointing but we didn't let it stop us, keeping on our route to Notre Dame. We very soon leant the extent of the street sellers' English - "1€. Good price. Hello! 1€. Good price. Hello!" and repeat. On the way to the cathedral we crossed the Pont des Arts, reading the inscriptions on many of the padlocks and laughing at the bike chains and hefty locks of those lovers who clearly weren't taking any chances.
From here, we walked alongside the Seine singing Ella Henderson's Ghost ("I keeeeeep going to the river to praaaay") until we found ourselves outside the cathedral with all the other tourists. The queue snaked its way across the whole square so we seated ourselves for another snack and a drink. As we were sat on the wall, lots of little birds (Siân: I like little birds) landed on the hedge and ate out of the hands of some nearby children. Lucy gave it a good go but these were clearly feathered food connoisseurs because they weren't tempted by the offerings.
Deciding it would be worth the wait, we tagged on the end of the queue. Soon we were inside, appreciating the existence of pews for a good rest, and looking at the stained glass, grand organ and stone pillars. We weren't there for long before beginning the trek to the Eiffel Tower. The closer we got, the more Mitch exclaimed "it's really big", which really helped Siân and her fear of heights. We took a rest by a street violin player. By now we were starving, and all needed a wee. Soon we came across one of France's automated toilets and all took a turn. Siân was apprehensive, having had a previously traumatic experience with the self-locking doors, but we all survived. After this, we bought a picnic-style tea which we ate at the bottom of the the Tower at around six thirty.
When we eventually purchased our tickets, the top level was temporarily closed, but we knew it'd take us no small amount of time to reach that anyway so it was of little concern. As such, we ventured on up over the 300 metre mark to the first floor. On this floor you are able to walk out onto a piece of glass laid into the floor to see below. Mitch was unfazed whilst Siân baulked at the concept of viewing the height from such an angle (but she finally took the big step!).
After this ordeal, we decided to go and look in the café, yet at the price of €5 for a cappuccino, we decided against it. Meanwhile Dan had had enough of the steps and wondered to scout out the lift price. After concluding that this too was too expensive, we continued up to the second floor, taking several rest stops along the way.
The second floor was crowded but Siân was triumphant as her previous attempt at scaling the Eiffel Tower two years prior to this trip had been cut short by a torrent of tears at merely the first floor. Edging through the knot of people, we looked out from each side. By now, the sun was beginning to set, and a burnt orange tinge was spreading across the horizon. After admiring the view, we joined the queue to buy lift tickets to the top floor. Knowing that the second floor was not even halfway to the top made Siân want to throw up all three kinds of bread she'd tried thus far, especially as she has a fear of lifts. We wedged ourselves into the tiny space and began to rise towards the top. In no time at all, we were at the highest point. From here, we could watch the sun disappear beyond the landscape, and Paris begin to light up.
Soon, the Eiffel Tower spotlights streamed across the sky, and we quickly headed back down in the lift (Siân: worst experience of my life - do lifts have speed limits?!). We seated ourselves on the grass in and ate some cheese and bread whilst peering up at the illuminated tower. We took photos in front, and then at 10pm, the huge metal structure began to twinkle like fireflies at a rave. We oohed and aahed as befitted the moment, until a man approached us with some glass bottles. This is a recurring experience in this area, but this man was slightly different.
"Champagne?"
"Non merci."
"Very good price. Cheap."
"Non merci."
"Very good price. Freeeeee?"
It was either the dark grin he flashed us, or wild imaginings of poisoned wine, but we left in a hurry. If Dan Bussell turns down free alcohol, you know something is amiss.
Now absolutely shattered, we returned to the hostel on the metro and went to bed.
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