I stayed with a couple, Helen and Chris, in West Ealing, and “commuted” to the hotel each day by tube (The London Underground). It really does look like a tube. Since I was in London for eight days last summer I had done most of the big stuff already, and just wanted to hang out with some locals and go to a pub, etc. Helen and Chris are one of the cutest couples ever. He is Australian, and she is British (but her family is from Spain originally). They were so
accommodating and sweet! Not to mention hilarious. We all had a lot in common and got along really well. Chris and I talked about Australia a lot, and I have to say he made me bump it up a few slots on my “Places to Visit” list. It sounds utterly amazing. On my last night they took me to a comedy show. Of course, I got picked on a lot for being American (all in good fun, of course) including getting serenaded Wham’s “Careless Whisper” by a chubby Brit wearing a spandex cat costume and one nipple tassel. But that’s another story. ;) I had a fabulous weekend filled with good conversations, lots of laughs, great food, a lot of tea, and wonderful people.Unfortunately, it was also a weekend of extreme snow fall for London. When it was time for me to take my train back to Paris, all of the travel was extremely backed up. In fact, the headline of a newspaper that I picked up on the way TO THE TRAIN STATION read “You can’t even escape by train!” Lovely. And it was a good indicator of the rest of my day.
Since travel was so backed up, your ticket time didn’t matter, as long as you had one, you got in an extremely long line (or queue as the British say :-P). Then they just loaded trains on a first come first serve basis as fast as they could, which was not fast at all. After marching through snow to the very end of the line several blocks away, my socks were soaked. Then, I waited in the cold with wet feet for about three hours before even getting inside St. Pancras. The Salvation Army was there handing out coffee, tea, and some hot food like curry and even Domino’s brought pizza. News stations kept filming us and interviewing the people waiting. I waited for four more hours inside the train station before getting a ticket, and another hour and a half inside the lounge. Whew. It was an exhausting day.
When I finally made it back to Paris at midnight, I was ecstatic. I came into Gare du Nord, the same station as last summer when I arrived in Paris for the first time and completely alone because of a flight mix up. Back then I remember feeling so scared, alone, and confused. I had no idea where I was, how to get where I was going, and my French was pretty abysmal. This time, I knew exactly where I was, understood all of the announcements, and even asked the guy next to me if he’d prefer the window seat. It felt so…comfortable. Coming back to Paris was like coming home. I was so excited to be back I didn’t even take the bus the rest of the way with my suitcase, but just walked, soaking up the sights and smells of Paris again. J
