This post has been uploaded as a blog post retrospectively from the diary written at the time.
Sleeping on my chair became too much to handle and I finally laid out flat on the floor. I manage to grab about five hours sleep on the ferry and ate a wonderful steak and chips.
We arrive late into Cherbourg for some unknown reason and I finally disembark around 7.15am. Argh. One hour until my first train.
I board a bus and head to the Gare. I wonder how the hell my inter-rail card works and smile widely when I realise that my planning was correct… there is an 8.12 to Paris.
Although I want a meal I am frugal with my money and choose to wait until Paris. Just out of intrigue I switch my mobile phone on to see if my international signal works. At first silence, then BEEP! SFR appears on a screen with one text message. It reads: Welcome to SFR, France’s No. 1 Mobile Phone Network. How sweet.
I arrive in Paris St Lazare at 11.10am and begin the search to find somewhere to eat. Most places look pricey, and after wandering the streets for over an hour, I settle for a Big Mac.
I visit the Louvre, but apart from Virgin megastore, I don’t want to look around until I have secured a hotel for my return. After much trapsing around I find a room opposite the Gare de Lazare. It costs me FF225, but I am relieved to have somewhere.
I get the Metro to Gare du Nord, lock up my rucksack and head into town on foot. There is very little going on so I wander all the way down the Rue La Fayette and continue to the Arc de Triomphe.
From there I go to the Eiffel Tower and along the banks of the Seine to La Samaritaine, by which point it is closed. I walk up towards the Gare du Nord, get swindled for FF100, get fingers burnt. Now upset and very cautious. Can’t afford to be a tourist.
The streets begin to look decidedly dodgier as the night closes in and all bar some shopping for socks and cheese, I race back to the relative safety of the station. There are obvious gangs walking around but they are equally numbered by guards.
I sit with my back against the wall and cut my cheese with my old RAC card. Thanks Dad!
I have three hours to kill, and frankly I am so eager to get on that train. I have reserved a couchette that I can get some sleep upon. Lord knows I sleep loads, and five hours was not enough.
I get to begin my new Pennac book, which I am excited about. Hopefully it will last me the holiday.
I hope also that Amsterdam is a friendlier climate than Paris. For all its grandeur and beauty, it is in fact rogue after rogue. I have high hopes for Amsterdam, and worried about Berlin and Rome.
When I reach the cabin at about 23.19, I find I am sharing with Scott and Alison, two students from Belfast. They only have good things to say about Europe. Sadly, they think Prague is the place to go, which is one of the few places I left out!
