Eur-in for a Treat! EF Ultimate Break New Years Trip through Amsterdam, Paris, and London (Part 3 - London)

I feel like I should preface this with an apology. SO much has gone on the past few months that I completely forgot about the existence of my blog. I will do an update blog here pretty soon, but I felt I should, you know, finish my series of posts from LAST New Years.

So, without further ado.

Part Three: London (please forgive me if some of this is out of order, it has been year. It is also likely going to be shorter than the others for the same reason.)

The trip from Paris to London was much less eventful than the one from Amsterdam to Paris. Although the actual getting on was a bit more stressful than getting on to go to Paris, we all were in the same train car (that's what they're called right? Cars? Carts? Cabs? I have no idea).

By this point in the trip, I was exhausted. And it had been awhile since I had taken my allergy medicine, I wasn't feeling 100%. Everyone seemed to have the sniffles and a cough at this point in our group, but it did not stop us from having fun.

So anyway, we get on the train after having sat (and slept-- some of us MAY have been remarkably hungover to where it felt like the whole train station was moving) for what felt like forever. I DID have my passport in my hand. There was no way I was going to accidentally put it in a bag and risk all the stress I'd had on the previous train ride.

I remember sitting on the train next to Kevin (not the Kevin that was a friend from home, but the other one). We chatted a bit but not much and then I opened my kindle. Afterwards, I promptly passed out.

The train ride was supposedly really cool. It was the one that went under the canal. But you could tell me that we ended up spotting an underwater city that housed water dragons and I wouldn't know any better I was so out.

The next thing I know, my eyes are fluttering open and we are moving through rolling hills of Great Britain. Seeing as I'm from the flat, flat part of Texas, hills still impress me even if they are small and insignificant. I can't remember if these were actual hills or if they were just hills in my eyes because the land wasn't flat.

I did not take any pictures, because that would have involved moving more than I wanted before it was necessary.

It was pretty though.

So, we get to London and promptly get on a bus for a city tour.

For the time we were on the bus, I know that I struggled to stay awake. Which saddens me because I'm sure we heard a lot of interesting things about London.

We then stopped for lunch at a large market near some ATMs. Most of us stopped by the ATM to get some proper money and then we went into the market.

I ate something. I think it was some sort of sandwich. I remember that it was messy and I didn't eat all of it. A few of us walked around as we ate and we kept seeing signs for the "Dungeon of London" attraction which we were like oh that's cool. There was also a pirate hip on land I think?

After lunch, we reconvened and continued our tour on foot.

I don't recall much from the walking tour. We crossed a bridge. We did go by Buckingham Palace at some point and I'm pretty sure it was that day. 

Eventually we all made our way to the hotel we were staying at. And man, was it a nice hotel. 

Ashleigh and I got a room to ourselves in the corner of the lowest floor. We promptly went to the grocery store across the street to load up on alcohol because we were going to throw a party in our room. We also got snacks (bags of chips and cookies and a giant tub of gummy bears). To get the alcohol into the hotel, though, we definitely made it more difficult than necessary because we weren't sure if we were supposed to bring alcohol in so we tried to sneak it in.  

Any of the group that wished then went to a very nicely lit shopping center/mall thing for dinner. I got my first meat pie (the best piessss in Looondon) and it was good, despite having mushrooms in it.

Someone else at the table got nachos to share with the table. They were disappointing. Basically just shredded cheese on the chips. And I'm not even sure if they were tortilla chips. (If there are any Londoners reading this, please note that is not what nachos are.)

When we got back to the hotel, we did throw a little party. Basically we all just formed a circle and played Never Have I Ever with vodka gummy bears (which were disgusting). It was fun. 

The next day we went to Oxford. If you have read Deborah Harkness's All Souls' Trilogy, the first book (A Discovery of Witches) partially takes place here. I slept on the bus ride there and came to the conclusion I was sick like half of the group (side note: it was just allergies). When we stopped, the little pub that Tolkien and Lewis used to sit and have long discussions was pointed out to us. 

We had a really cool tour through it. And I took a few pictures.

After the walking tour, we were released on Oxford like wild hogs. Not really. But sort of.

We were told that we needed to meet back up after some time to wander and eat. We were warned that if we wanted to eat and the same place that Tolkien and Lewis did that it would likely be all that we could do since the food took a while.

I was torn.

Part of me wanted to go sit where other authors have sat. Eat where they had eaten. Maybe even challenge someone to a duel, I don't know.

But another part of me wanted to go to Blackwells (Aka the largest single room bookstore in the world -- allegedly).

Had anyone else wanted to go to the pub, I would have gone, but no one else did. But then again, I also had been around so many people for so long at this point, I kind of wanted to do my own thing.

So I went to Blackwells first. And the claim to be the largest single room bookstore is a lie. They cheated. Their "one room" was multiple floors and basically it just looked like an entire building where they eliminated all the walls. But it was cool. I got a pen. And a notebook. And a couple of books.

Then I went to find food. And I found this quaint little cafe that wasn't too crowded that had some of the best tomato soup I think I've ever had. I took my bowl of soup and a large piece of garlic bread to sit near where we were supposed to meet up and ate it, blissfully alone (except for when others in my group would randomly pop in and sit for a bit).

When I started wandering again, I came across a screen in a building that had a JRR Tolkien Lord of the Rings quiz thing. Obviously I took the quiz. Multiple times. Each time it had different questions and I didn't miss a question.

At some point I wandered all the way to the pub, with the knowledge that I did not have time to get food or even really go in.

Someday I will go back. Someday I will eat where Tolkien ate.

ANYWHO.

We went back to the hotel and got ready to go out for a pub crawl.

As we are in the first pub, we make some new friends with people from other countries. One was named Kris whom the Kris in our group was fascinated by the fact that they spelled their name the same way.

Our tour director deemed us in good hands and at some point through the night vanished.

I admit it. I got drunk. Very very drunk.

The last place we went to was a club. I was to a point where I didn't particularly want to be near super loud music. And as I walked back to find my group after using the bathroom, multiple people stopped me to talk which in normal circumstances would have been fine and dandy, but in my brain I was alone in a foreign country and that wasn't safe. (I'm not sure why this is the place that mindset popped up since I'd been in many situations way more sketchy than random guys trying to talk with me. But I do trust my intuition and it was telling me to get as far away from one of the guys as quickly as possible so that is what I did.)

I found Larkin who had my phone (since his was still MIA in Amsterdam) and "tried" to find my group. Apparently even though I spoke with multiple of them IN THE CLUB I decided they were all lost to me. No one was still in the club so I had to go find them.

When I went upstairs I ran into the Kris who wasn't part of my group and asked if he had seen anyone in my group. He asked weren't they in the club and I was like of course not. I looked there.

Then I left the club.

Not too far. I just went outside in the cold air next to the bouncer.

Mike (the bouncer) asked if I was okay. And I said No. My group has abandoned me. This guy was way nicer than he needed to be, and asked how he could help. I said there was no way and took a step away.

I knew I needed to get back to my hotel. I also knew there was no chance I could navigate the metro. Plus it apparently closed at some point and I had no idea when that was.

SO I pulled out my phone, and pulled out my Uber app then turned back to Mike.

"I don't know how to Uber. Can you get me back to my hotel?" I asked him. He took my phone and asked me where my hotel was. Me, being drunk, said "I don't know. BUT I have a picture!" I don't know whose idea it was to take pictures of the hotel address, but whoever it was... thank you.

So the bouncer, Mike. Sweet dear Mike, helps me order an Uber. He also kept going through the different drivers until there was one he knew.

"Okay, love," he told me as he handed me my phone back, "Mohammed will be here in about four minutes. He's going to pull up right there," Mike pointed to the street directly in front of us, "just stay right here and you'll get back to your hotel."

Me, being drunk and dumb, thanked Mike profusely and then promptly walked the OTHER DIRECTION to another street while waving my phone in front of me trying to figure out why the car kept moving a different way than I was walking.

Thankfully before I got too far, another Londoner stopped me and asked if I was okay.

"I'm trying to catch my Uber but he won't stay put."

At this point, my Uber had shown up exactly where Mike said he would and this other Londoner, bless his heart, tried to wrangle me in that direction (he had my phone at this point and said "I think you're the one moving, darling,") and as we approach the small line of cars I break away from him. Approach the first car I see and knock on the window.

"Are you Mohammed, my Uber driver?" I ask as SHE rolls the window down.

"No, sorry," she said.

At this point both the bouncer and the random Londoner manage to wrangle me into Mohammed's car.

Mohammed was very nice. I am pretty sure I told him my entire life story and he got a tip that was equal to the entire drive. I gave him a Five-star rating.

We get back to the hotel and he puts his vehicle into park as he watches me go up to the door to the hotel. It has one of those security measure things that mean after a certain time, the door only opens to people with keys.

At the desk inside, I see one of the men I had spoken with prior in the night. He looks up waves, I wave back. Then I put my wallet where I'm supposed to put the key. It doesn't open. I get more and more creative on how I put my wallet up to the door. Shockingly, it doesn't open.

Mohammed starts to get out of his car, presumably to help me figure out how to get into my hotel. The guy inside sees a random guy start approaching from behind me and he starts moving to the door. While both of these guys are coming up, I guess I magically figured out how to hold my wallet because the door opened.

I end up going back to my room and message Ashleigh on the WhatsApp to tell her I managed to successfully use Uber all by myself for the first time and am back at the hotel. Or at least, I meant to only send it to Ashleigh. Instead I sent it to the whole group.

Then I realized I was all alone in my hotel (at least it felt like I was all alone in the whole hotel). When my neighbors came back, I bribed them into hanging out a bit with snacks. More than half of the remaining gummy bear were dropped on the ground. I am still slightly upset about this gross waste of gummy bears.

The next day we had a free day, so Ashleigh, Kevin (still not friend from home Kevin -- man I didn't hang out with him as much as I should have), and I went to watch the changing of the guard at Buckingham Palace.

On the ground while we were waiting was half an avocado. I don't know why it was there, I just remember it was there.

We ended up leaving the rest of our group and went to the London Eye where we saw a really cool view. 

 

 

The pictures don't do the view justice at all. 

Afterwards, we went to the previously mentioned dungeon tour. It was not a real dungeon, but it was this "live action" tour of the dark side of London's history. Between plague and treason accusations, the Great Fire and Mrs. Lovett's meat pies, and even Jack the Ripper, it was really a fascinating tour. I did get pulled into a cage when we were being accused of treason and got separated from Ashleigh and Kevin for like half a sketch. 

The end of it was extra fun because we were "hanged" on a ride. Since it was four people per little cart thing, it was the three of us and a random woman. 

Afterwards, it was getting a bit late, but we still had one thing to do before we left the area. We went on a carnival ride. 

It was fun. 

When we got off that, we ended up going back to the hotel to meet up for the farewell dinner. I don't remember what I had beyond some creme brulee. Which was delicious. 

After the farewell dinner, we packed and hung out a little bit later before going to the airport. 

The four of us flying back to Houston were all equally exhausted. In fact, I'm slightly shocked we didn't sleep through getting on our flight. 

I was so hoping to get through this trip without getting pulled aside by security since I've gotten pulled aside basically every time I've ever gone on a trip (still to this day) and I did get pulled aside in that airport. 

When I got home, my dad picked me up for the airport (thank you, dad!) and when I got home he had made me enchiladas. Sadly I didn't eat many because at this point I felt like death. One of the girls on the trip posted that she had been diagnosed with the flu, so I went to the urgent care my dad recommended. 

Even though I stated that I'd been on a trip in Europe where at least one person had been diagnosed with the flu, they were positive I was pregnant. No matter how many times I stated that it was impossible for me to be pregnant they wouldn't get beyond that idea until I agreed to a pregnancy test. Shocker, I wasn't pregnant. But I also didn't have the flu. Or Mono. Or basically anything else they tested me for. 

When they asked if I had changed up medications at all recently it finally clicked. I hadn't taken my allergy medicine in almost two weeks. 

I took it when I got home and within a relatively short time was feeling as good as new. 

Before I had gotten home, I'd booked my next EF Trip (Peru). 

I always will recommend EF Ultimate Break. Even before I started trying to plan an international trip on my own, I recommended them. SInce I've started my own plans though, I realize just how nice it is to sign up for a trip, pay money, and just show up when they tell me to. No planning necessary. It's wonderful.

Since this trip, I've gone on a cruise (Vlog #1 of it linked here), I've gone to a wedding in Vegas, I've gone on my Peru EF trip, and I went to my sister's wedding in Missouri. 

This year, I am for sure going to Paris again and I'll go to Switzerland and Italy while I'm on that side of the world (My Big is getting married!) and on another Cruise in October (same ship, different ports). If my current plans work out, I'll also hopefully be taking a bit of a semi-spontaneous trip to Paris in the next month or so. Obviously, I am a fan of Paris and the people there. ;)

I'll be doing another blog about Peru and I'll catch y'all up with my life from this past year hopefully in the near future. 

Until Next Time,

Shelby

Best Thing about cleaning my Room

If you know me, then you are probably well aware of the fact that I am not the most organized of people. Through the years, I've gotten much better about it, but it is one of the things that I'm still working on.

With that said, when I go on a cleaning and organizing rampage (something I am currently in the middle of), I tend to come across things that I completely forgot about. Whether it be a half-finish crocheted thing which I don't remember how to finish, bracelets that I intended to give to people when I returned from Europe, or twenty-six different writing utensils, nothing is better than when I find old notebooks.

You see, through the years of me proclaiming to be a writer, people tend to most often give me two things: writing utensils or notebooks. Now, I don't often use the writing utensils because I'm actually very particular in what I write with (the simpler the better), but notebooks I'm even weirder about.

If it is a pretty notebook, I hate writing in it because I don't want to waste it. But if it is just like a normal notebook, I will rarely start writing on the first page. For some reason, I prefer flipping to a random page in the middle.

Which means, I can write in a notebook and then forget I've written in it. Then I'll set it aside for YEARS sometimes and when I finally flip through it rather than just open it and see nothing on a page later (generally when I'm completely reorganizing my room) , sometimes I come across gems of ideas. Or complete poems.

Poetry isn't my strong suit, in fact, I much prefer listening or reading other people's poems than writing them myself. But once in awhile I will write something that when I find it years later, it rings enough of a since of appreciation that I will go ahead and share it. This is one of those poems.

I found it in a notebook that I was given by my grand-little while in college. It is the only thing in the notebook, but is more than halfway through.

The Letters of Love
by: S.N.Hild

I've known people whose love is letters
written in the sand, just above the rising
tide.
Temporary.
Destined from the very first stroke
to vanish within the whispering waves.
Each moment spent and each word spoken,
just a small granular speck of sand.
When put together it creates something beautiful
and once set underneath the
scathing
sight of sun burns with each step taken.
It doesn't take long before the wind,
the waves,
s c a t t e r
the letters away.

I've known people whose love is letters
written with such intensity 
there was no choice but to leave
scars on the walls of the spirit they left behind.
Graffiti
hastily applied before the artist
vanishes in the night.
No one can dismiss its beauty. As
beautiful as the individual who created it.
Permanent.
But sometimes, someone else can come along
an artist in his own right
gifted enough
to turn the scars into another piece of art.
Still scars,
still waves
r e a p p l i e d
the letters shifted.

I've known people whose love is letters
written in the simplicity of pencil.
The gray graphite given to children
specifically because erasers vanquish mistakes.
It can last.
It can remain.
Always resembling the original form.
The imprint can remain as long as the paper.
But in time, the actual words
fade.
It is always limited.
Pencil can't be seen or felt if the material can't
hold it.
When set against the hardened stone,
the lead is
b r o k e n
the letters disappear.

I've known people whose love is letters
written deeply in dark ink.
Not just your average BIC office pen.
Rather, a black and gold glitter pen.
Ink runs smoothly,
letters bubbly with
happy
hearts over the 'i's and 'j's.
Everything is perfect.
Everything is beautiful.
Each stroke, each caress leaves
a string of stunning cursive.
But then, with one mismovement
of an arm
a single hair falls,
and suddenly everything is ruined.
Just a moment before and it was perfect,
a masterpiece of Sistine Proportions.
Now all visible is an unrecognizable blur,
blob.
A glob of failure and
d i s a p p o i n t m e n t
the letters remain.

Me?
My love is letters
written in a perfectionist's first attempt at calligraphy.
With but one brush and one piece of paper,
each stroke is hesitant,
each movement is slow.
Perhaps
if I don't rush
then my letters can stay true.
I've heard calligraphy is an art of
precision
but to be truly skilled, speed is
necessary.
Ink can only dry one way.
Hesitancy can hinder the whole thing.
But I'll keep trying, keep writing.
Each strike has its purpose.
Each line,
each twirl,
grows firmer.
Confidence grows.
Each character is becomes
s t r o n g e r
the letters become.

Birthdays are Weird

The past few months have been a whirlwind, so I apologize for having not posted anything since January and having not yet posted the London leg of my European trip.

I've not vanished completely, since I have been working on my Cruise vlog, which you can find day 1 of the trip here.

Today is my birthday. I am 27 years old today.
And it has reminded me just how weird birthdays are.

Like, when you're a child birthdays are super exciting.

Goodness, I remember not being able to sleep before some birthdays because I was so excited.

But now that I'm older, a birthday is just another day.

Last year, it was a little different.
Last year, I was preparing for going to Belize. For leaving the country for the first time.

I have come to the realization though that birthdays are great times for reflection. Especially when your birthday is close to the middle of the year. Everyone seems to do such self reflection at the change of the year, but birthdays can be remarkable for that.

I've done so much since my last birthday.

This time last year, I was still a bookseller. I was still overpowered by so many different anxieties that I couldn't control. I was uncertain by so many different things, from where I was at to who I was and basically everything in between.

In just a short 365 days, I have not just been to one other country, but instead six (with a seventh already planned for next month). I've been to different cities as well, most recently Las Vegas for a wedding.

Although I know I am not where I want to be, I am much closer. I write so much more consistently.

Despite being the same weight I was, I am much more confident in my skin. I am stronger, both physically and emotionally.

Yes, I still have my moments of absolute doubt that I should continue pursuing writing. Yes, I still get overwhelmed by some anxieties. But neither of those control my life like they used to.

I'm not afraid to try new things on my own. I'm not afraid of everything and everyone passing me by. I'm not afraid of being a temporary in people's lives, just their for convenience. 

It's weird. When I chopped off my hair back in October, it felt as though it was a physical representation of the growth I've been going through. It felt as though I chopped away the source of so many of my fears and insecurities. My hair had been a security blanket, yet I'm a better person than I was since I've cut it.

I'm living.

I'm actually living life.

Every second of every day isn't just slipping passed any more. I'm having experiences. I'm creating memories.

I'm making new friends. And even though I don't know if these are going to be lifelong friends or just ones for now, I know they are making an impact on my life and I'm impacting theirs.

Stories are interwoven with the old and the new. Stories have aspects that last and aspects that are only important for a page or two. But old, new, permanent, and temporary all turn the story into something unique, something beautiful.

And although my story is still being written, it is moving in a direction I choose. And I can't wait to see where I am on my 28th birthday.

27 is going to be a good year.

No.

27 is going to be THE year. It is going to be great.

Eur-in for a Treat! Part 2 (Paris)

December 30 began too early for my liking, mainly because I hadn't completely packed the night before (despite passing out from exhaustion). So I had to rapidly pack what remained of my luggage. This included all of the stuff I had put in my locker.

As a side-note, I accidentally threw my passport in my camera case (with the camera) and in my half-awake haze, then put that in my suitcase. Not my carry-on.

So, we all go to the train station and are milling around for a bit. We were not given our tickets until right before getting on the train.

I was told to get on one car because that was the one my ticket was for, but a lady that worked there yelled at me to go onto another train because my luggage was too big. Then that line wasn't moving whatsoever but the line I had initially been in (and the one our tour director got on) had vanished, so I hopped onto that car and just wandered a little bit until I finally found our (now relatively frazzled looking) tour director. He helped me put my suitcase up to where no one could get it down easily and I went to my seat. (I did see him get lectured about suitcases being in incorrect places by someone who worked on the train and there was obvious miscommunication between them but I didn't say anything because I probably would have just made it worse.)

Car 18 was only people in our travel group. There were sixteen of us in it and honestly, I thought it was nice. We could sleep without too much concern for our stuff (at least after we fixed the safety hazard that was the suitcases blocking everyone's path in and out of the car).

Just a slight safety hazard (it did get fixed)

There was a door between the two sections of the car (eight on one side, eight on the other), and I was curious if it actually closed, so I pulled it. It closed and slammed shut (whoops). Then when I went to open it back up, it didn't budge for a few moments and I was momentarily concerned that I just locked eight people in a very small area. Don't worry, I did get it reopened.

We reclosed it at some point, but then those on the other side asked to keep it open for air ventilation. Which I was cool with, but one of the girls in my little four people table area was not. And she kept telling me to close the door again because the others were being too loud. Although I figured they'd quiet down relatively soon, she was very adamant that I  close it again, so eventually I did.

This was about when I realized I did not have my passport in my carry-on. It freaked me out for a bit until I realized where it was. And I remember praying that I didn't actually need it for any reason while on the train.

I wish I could say that we had a completely uneventful trip to Paris and slept the whole way there.

We did not.

Most of the car was asleep when the door into the car opened, waking me and one or two other people up. Random people in street clothes come storming into the car, the front couple of people's body language was very aggressive.

They opened the door to the back half of our car and start telling the other people in our group something. All I could hear was one of them saying "off the train." I looked around trying to figure out how many people there were trying to kick my friends off the train. We were approaching a stop and I couldn't think who had the authority to kick people off a train.

Apparently I looked very concerned, because one of the people still in the doorway flashes a badge at me and says "It's okay, we're customs."

None of us knew what the badge for customs looks like. They could have just been flashing a parking tag at us for all I knew and saying it was a customs badge.

At this point, the people who were being kicked out of their seats were moving (as most of them had been asleep, I assume). Our tour director noticed something was happening and came up and asked what the deal was. They talked for a bit about how they were customs and needed the car. He was like "Okay, guys let's get moving." And so half of the car left (and apparently were sent to the bar car, which no one particularly complained about). The customs people filed away into that part of the car, slammed the door, and suddenly all of the glass turned black.

When they came back out, they were in an actual uniform and went checking people and their passports.

I would have been very embarrassed had I been chosen, because as I mentioned before, my passport was in my suitcase two cars ahead and very difficult to get to.

Multiple people in our group were checked, but thankfully, I was not.

Eventually, we arrived in Paris. Nothing else exciting happened on the train ride, thankfully. And I managed to catch up on my sleep.

We speed through the train station as much as a group of 43 people can and load the bus. The trip to our hostel was fairly uneventful. We get to the hostel, get sent up the elevators to wait for the tour director to get all of our rooms figured out. Thankfully, I went from a room of six to a room of three. Ashleigh, Arlynn, and I got a room to ourselves. Technically.

From what I can tell, most of the groups were now either rooms of three or four, which was a very nice change from the small rooms with six people in them. From here were freshened up a bit and then went to the Eiffel Tower.

Our Tour Director bought us our first crepes and they were delicious (I bought a rose so I could approach people and quote Anastasia). At this point we weren't able to go up the Eiffel tour because we had to get to a cabaret show and getting onto the tower would have taken multiple hours. 

When you're only in Paris for a select amount of time, with all there is to do especially when the weather is very hazy, you have to make choices as to what is worth and isn't worth your time. I decided that spending four hours in line to get to the top of the Eiffel Tower was NOT worth my time (this trip). Probably next trip. 

From there, we were granted 30-45 minutes to wander around, so a small group of us wandered along the river banks to a river. We went across a pretty cool bridge. 

"Welcome my friends to Paris. Here have a flower on me."

Yes, there are locks everywhere in Paris. On everything they can be hooked on, they were there.

I didn't know what to expect for the Cabaret show, but I can admit it was enjoyable. Yes, there were a lot of shirtless men and women. In fact, if I remember correctly, we even saw a few butts. 

The food was okay, the drinks were pretty good (a welcome drink, wine, and champagne). I'm sure had we gone to the Moulin Rouge the food would have been better and one of the dancers wouldn't have noticeably forgotten all of his moves. But I enjoyed it. 

I don't particularly remember what we did following this. I think we just went back to hostel, had a few drinks in the hostel bar, then went to someone's room (where one of the roommates was trying to sleep) and ate wings and fries, then went to bed. If this is the night I am thinking of, I wanted to explore like just the block around the hostel or go out and dance. No one in the group particularly wanted to and Alec and Danny (two of the guys staying in the hostel) gave me some creeper vibes and I was not going to go out with them. By the time I finally got a group that didn't creep me out willing to go, all of the places nearby were closed and preparing for New Years Eve. 

I overslept the morning of December 31. It was the day we were going to do the bus tour through Paris and Arlynn wakes Ashleigh and me up asking if we were going because we had like ten or fifteen minutes to get ready. 

Now, normally I don't do well rushing in the morning. This was no exception. I jumped out of bed, rushed around a bit, making no progress in getting ready, decide no I can't make it. Arlynn tells me I can, so I run around some more, finally start to make progress, decide makeup isn't necessary, sneeze a few times because I haven't taken allergy medicine in a few days and I'm pretty sure I was allergic to something in this hostel, sit back down , stand immediately back up, put on two different shoes, realize I have two different shoes on, fix it, finish brushing teeth and hair, and then run downstairs. Well, run to the elevator and then go downstairs because the stairs were difficult to find here. 

I did make it in time. I didn't have coffee nor any breakfast. At this point, I knew it was going to be an interesting day. We did the whole tour thing and a couple interesting buildings (and a cafe where I got coffee and a chocolate croissant). I learned that a flagship store is the first store of a company, not actually the name of a street that the first HPB store just happens to be on.

After this tour, our EF group walked to the perfume museum. Nikki, Aidan, Kris, and I weren't particularly feeling going to a perfume museum so we get this idea to go get food and meet back up with the group after eating. 

It was a Great Choice!

We walked around the corner and found a quaint little restaurant. When we order only water (at like noon), our waitress seemed a little bit confused, but rolled with it. 

The menu was in french. Now, I did take french for YEARS in school. But apparently the only word that stuck with me was fromage. And that's mainly because I'm somewhat obsessed with cheese. So I ordered something that fromage seemed to be the main ingredient. 

And let me tell you. It was wonderful. It looks like mozzarella sticks, but it wasn't. I don't know what kind of cheese it was but it was delicious. The whole salad was incredible. 

We guzzled two more bottles of water between the four of us and downed our food. When we checked the time, we realized we had been there for more than the allotted 45 minutes, so we hurried out (without getting dessert or coffee which also confused our waitress) and rushed back to the perfume museum.

No one was there. 

So we figure we missed them and would just meet up with them at the next stop, which we had been planning on doing anyway if we missed them. 

We make our way down the block, across a couple of streets, and down a little ways more and end up in one of the larger malls I've ever seen. Then, we hop onto the escalator and go up. and up. and up. 

When we reached the roof, we looked around a bit for anyone in our group and finally I decide to message someone I knew from home who was on the trip (Kevin M.) and he told me they were still at the perfume museum. 

So, we took pictures on the roof and decided to go to the Ice Cube Bar on the roof, get a bottle of wine, and wait.

About the time we get our second bottle, the rest of the group is getting food somewhere and someone else who slept through the tour is trying to reach us (Larkin). Apparently he went to the Louvre (the next stop after this roof) and there were many places with the same name as the place we were in. 

He eventually joined us for our third bottle. 

Then I hear that the rest of the group is already done with food and have been at the Louvre. or were going to the Louvre. 

So after a bathroom break, we all head that direction. In a very content, wine-tipsy state.

We did not go in the Louvre, because at this point we were starting to run out of time because we had only a couple of hours to get ready for the beginning of our New Years celebration. 

Rather than try to figure out the metro system, we took an uber back to the hostel. It was another great choice. 

At some point before the party after I showered and got mostly ready, there was still some time to kill, so I drank a bottle of wonderful raspberry wine that I got at the cheese and clog place in the Netherlands with Kris, Aidan, and Larkin. Nikki was taking a nap, I believe. Which I definitely should have, but if I napped there was the risk of not waking up for the party. 

Food and drink were provided, but the food was only so-so (quite a bit of it was vegan) and they ran out of drinks before the end of the night. This was when we got the only pictures of the three of us that had been on the Belize trip that came. 

Sadly, this was the best of the pictures on my phone of the three of us

That night was so much fun. I met plenty of new people. Saw fireworks from the rooftop. In Paris. No, I did not kiss anyone at midnight. Although I saw plenty of people kiss. I should really look into why people do that because I've never understood. But I'm continuing my tradition of no midnight kisses on New Years. Maybe next year. 

I did not sleep a lot this night either. But who can blame me? It was New Years! 

Thankfully, we didn't have to do anything until noon the next day. That was when we went to Montmartre. And the Notre Dame (which we didn't go in because of a super long wait). And we wandered for quite a bit. I had some hot chocolate and a ham and cheese crepe (not at the same time). 

Then we went on a river cruise on the Seine. I will admit, I slept through most of it. The guide's voice wasn't the most appealing. I was tired. But I did wake up in time to get some nice photos of the Eiffel Tower as we passed it. 

And then I promptly fell back asleep.

That night, Ashleigh, Larkin, Kris, and I went out to the Bastille area. And I got a shot for the group and the bartender freaking set the entire bartop on fire. I don't remember what it was, I just remember him "spilling" something and suddenly there's fire in front of me. It went out promptly, but still it was cool.

After we finished at that bar, we went to one across the street that I think was called something similar to Shelby and it was noticeably a bit nerdy. There were pokemon and dragonball z things on the walls. We were the loudest group there.

BUT

Nate, the Canadian who is a Parisian chef that we met in Amsterdam joined us.

Our search for a Karaoke bar failed utterly.

Eventually we ubered back to the Hostel for the night.

The next day, we left Paris and were on our way to London.

Until Next Time,
Shelby