Another early start was in order. Two train rides, a car journey and a couple of miles of walking were on the agenda, but if all went to plan we would be standing in the centre of Paris within 5 hours of waking up.
The usual doubts bounce around inside your head before the first leg of the journey. Do we have everything? do we have the tickets? Do we have the passports? We normally find the answer to all these questions to be yes.
We packed and organised the night before but we still end up questioning these details, like somehow our passports are no longer going to be in the compartments of our bags or had magically disappeared over night. Double and triple checking, the time soon rolls round to make the first step towards Paris.
Bags loaded into the car, the trip into Birmingham is smooth. Very little traffic. It has become noticeable over the years how traffic on Fridays seems to becoming significantly lighter, with traffic on Mondays going the other way and becoming significantly worse. With it been Friday, this worked in our favour.
Having left with plenty of time to spare, we were at the station early. We took this time to stock up on the classic boots meal deal and to have a wonder around the new station. Time soon passed and our platform was displayed on the large departures board. Platform 2.
We were taking the virgin train. Birmingham to London Euston. With a very respectable estimated journey time of one hour and twenty four minutes. We left on the dot and pulled in after one hour and twenty six minutes. That’s not bad going. Step over Japan.
The journey down to London was uneventful. A few brief stops to collect additional passengers. Our seats were okay, we actually landed ourselves a table seat. Although this sounds like a bonus, it is quiet strange sitting literally face to face with a complete stranger about a foot apart.
Being the quintessential British people, all four of us avoided eye contact. But as mentioned, because we were all sat opposite each other it eliminated the possibility of looking dead ahead. This left all of us looking out the window, up at the ceiling or down the isle. Meg soon found the perfect way around this and dropped off to sleep shortly into the journey.
We were lucky the train was so punctual. Our plans had been constructed for everything to run efficiently with only 15 minutes for unforeseen circumstances. We pulled into Euston with 26 minutes until the eurostar gates closed (they close 30 minutes before departure). We were at Euston and we had to get to St Pancras, approx 0.6 miles apart. The race was on.
We stood at the train doors like greyhounds waiting for the traps. Annnnddd we’re off. Round some of the more cumbersome passangers who were dragging the entire contents of their homes around with them, round the toddlers who decide the most effective route is that of a zig zag, and a quick dodge of the charity totes asking for the entire content of your wallet.
10 minutes later we’re at St Pancras and waiting inline for security and passport checks. John managed to set the metal detector off so had to be padded down, but nothing was found other than he had left his belt on and Meg once again got trapped between the two automatic door where the passports are automatically read. But neither caused any major delay.
The seating in the station is at a premium and no surprise with our arrival time, all had been snapped up, presumably a fair while ago. We managed to carve out a little space for ourselves next to gate nine and a view of the departures board. Hundreds of eyes fixated in the board waiting for the platform number to be revealed.
We had been in the station 7 minutes when the board flicked up with next eurostar departure from platform nine. Why thank you very much. The gate opened and we lead the heard of people up the moving escalators.
The train came into view. We located coach 4 and took our seats in numbers 95 and 96. Paris here we come. 
The journey was smooth and before we knew it we were rolling into gard du Nord. The usual commotion followed when the conductor announced that we’d be pulling into Paris shortly. Pretty much every man and his dog sprung up and dragged their luggage down from the overhead compartment. Very Little disregards were given for other passengers.
Following the bag grabbing frenzy, there is always a couple of awkward minutes when the culprits realise nobody can actually disembark before we’ve come to a stop. Passangers filling the the corridors, bags at their feet due to no room to swing a cat. Other Passengers are trap in the awkward, half standing, half seated position. Eventually the doors open and the mob filters out the doors. We let the majority pass before we calmly collect our luggage and step out onto the platform. Welcome to Paris.
Like most major train stations, the surrounding area could always do with a bit of TLC. As we were staying a fair distance from our departure point, we didn’t spent much time in the area and made started our walk towards our accommodation.
We walked about 3 miles before we conceded and headed underground to test out the French metro. We’d heard good things about the vast underground network, so had our hopes high.
First impressions were just how far underground are these tracks. A gigantic esculator descended us deep down into the earth only to turn the corner and be greeted by an equally as long esculator going even further into the depths. As we stood patiently on the moving steps, we discussed the unlikely possibility of a manned ticket office this deep underground and we currently had zero tickets.
The esculator continued the steady speed down and down and down. As the end of the belt came into sight we were expecting to be greeted by Satan himself welcoming us into his lair, but to our somewhat pleasant surprise, down in these depth there was a manned terminal.
We approached the kiosk and a chance for meg to try out her duolingo French. Turns out the man spoke perfect English. Meg will have to wait to put her French into action. We gave the name of the station we were aiming to head for. It turns out our target destination was one stop outside of the Paris zone, meaning a two zone ticket would have to be paid for. A little unlucky.
It turned out, the random metro station we had elected to opt for was the RER system. In Paris they run a metro and an RER line. The RER line is a higher speed more direct route to the major stations, while the normal metro is the original system the French have come to love. The metro line is a little slow calling at every stop and certain lines are lacking some of the newer features that can be found on the RER line such as the electronic system indicating where you are along with future stops.
No surprise with the newer RER line a premium price tag gets attached. If you want to get form A to B on the new network in record time and modern facilities, you are expected to pay for the privilege. The tickets were €2.80 each and we were on the train for 2 stops or 6 minutes to be even more precise.
6 minutes later we exited the train and proceeded to start the ascend back to the surface. Expecting to be walking out into fresh air we were greeted with a mall. A super sized mall. By now we were flagging. We had been up early and neither of us getting a particularly good rest. We had made it to Birmingham New Street, a dart across London to catch the eurostar, a two and a half hour journey, a three mile walk and a metro ride. We were quite ready to be checking I to our hotel not walking around the shops. We must have been tired as not even Meg wanted to go browsing at this time.
If you thought the French metro was a laberinth the this mall is definitely a contender. Floor negative two we started at, we had already ascended flights upon flights and now we are on level negative two. No worries, let’s get to ground zero and get ourselves out of here. Up one escalator
And another. Floor zero. We walked from one wing of the mall to another, no exits. Something we started to realise about the French is that sign posts are nearly none existant and trying to exit somewhere is near an impossible task. Stumbling across a guard we asked for directions out the mall. He directed us to the next floor up, along with a few other directions in quick French.
Having only made out the ascend one floor, we followed a noticeable breeze to exit the mall. We were greeted by a very unusual square building and a large courtyard. Very clean, very modern. The square building you could ride an elevator to the top to give you pamaramic views of the city, perhaps something we’d get round to.
Pleased to be outside, we still has 1.2 miles to trek to our accommodation for the next couple of days. The only other public transport avaliable was a bus that would take us one stop in the general direction cutting off about 200m from the journey. Due to this fact we decided to walk the entire distance.
We would like to say the miles flew by, but this would be a lie. They dragged. When our hotel finally came into sight we were more than pleased. A slight concern we had was with the reservation. For the first time ever we had made a hotel reservation through groupon. After placing the order we merely got a notice saying, thank you for your order you don’t have to do anything else. Always a slight worry when you’re not armed with a confirmation code or email.
Preparing for the worst, we were greeted by a very pleasant receptionist. Again, perfect English and check us in with no hassle at all. He even went as far to mention that the room he had given us is quite small but does have a view of the eiffle tower. However, if we felt the room was too cramped, just pop down stairs and he would give us a lager room at the rear of the building but it wouldn’t have view. Very accommodating member of staff indeed.
Collecting our key card we took the exceptionally small lift to floor 4. The lift stated it could accommodate four people, not sure the size of these people, one can only assume it meant children as it was more than a tight squeeze for us!
The room was as stated, on the smaller size. A bed, two side tables and a bathroom. But as promised a superb view of the eiffle tower. Due to the view alone, the iconic symbol of France, we stayed with the smaller room.
It was 5pm. Having done some research previously, we were aware the louve has extended opening hours on Wednesday and Fridays. Instead of closing at the usual 6pm it is pushed back until 10pm. We agreed to give ourselves one hour to recover from the days journey and we would head back into the heart of Paris at 6pm.
A quick shower, a change of clothes and a moment to catch our breath we were ready to go. We enquired at reception if there was in fact a faster way to the metro stations that we had perhaps overlooked. The answer was no. So it was another 1.2 mile back to the station.
The station was busy. Surprisingly busy. We had gathered information to purchase a 10 ticket book to reduce the cost of the metro. First port of call to find a ticket kiosk. Turns out they all close at 6pm, which judging by how busy the station was, was a little strange.
We queued up at the service desk to ask where we could purchase tickets. Judging by the signs adorning every inch of the windows they were frequently asked to buy tickets from them. “we do not sell tickets here”, “no ticket sales” etc etc. The fact they have to put these signs up indicates that the actual ticket office shuts way to early. But we didn’t want to buy tickets from them, we wanted to know where we could buy tickets. The lady pointed us to a machine.
Only select machines accept cash and the first machine we located that did accept cash was out of tickets. We did find one and purchased a book of ten for €14,90. The tickets come in 10 individual tickets which was ideal for us as one book of ten would suit us for 5 journeys each.
Next train heading to the louvre was the M1 line and that would drop us outside the front doors.
The metro was okay, a little busy and a little slow. Each additional stop people would cram on and you’d start to question how you’d make your exit once your station appears. Finally our station rolled round and after a bit of shoving and pushing from everyone we popped out of the carriage and on to the platform.
Following the signs for “sortie” which is exit in French we arrived at the louvre. The large pyramid standing proudly in the courtyard, surrounded by the ancient building on three of the four sides. It really is a sight to behold.
We entered through the centre of the glass pyramid. A few mandatory security checks and we were in the foyer. The layout again seem to make little sense but with Meg been under 26 entrance would be free simply by showing proof of age. A nice bonus. The remaining ticket cost €15 and we were in the louvre.
The museum remind us very much of the Uffizi that we visited late last year. Very large and lots of extraordinary art work, sculptures and artifacts. The center piece is of course the Mona Lisa. We heard that the majority of the visitors to the Louvre make a b line for the famous masterpiece, spend a couple of minutes admiring it and then leave.
While we took a slightly detour route to Leonardos most recognisably work, it was high on our agenda.
The masterpieces was, as suspected surrounded by eager tourists all trying to capture a glimpse and a photo of her. Shoulder to shoulder people tried to push their way through to the front, filling sny small gap that appeared almost instantly. 
The security of the mona Lisa is taken seriously. Sitting behind bullet proof glass and inside a perspex box which is resistant to vibrations along with been temperature and humidity controlled.
Two guards sat either side of the painting, presumably to prevent what happened back in 1911 with the theft of the painting or in more recent history, a Russian woman launching a mug that she had brought from the louvre gift shop.
It is said that the mona Lisa was so famous due to how her smile appears to alter depending on the angle at which you viewed the painting. Which apparently is a very unusal effect. Due to the size of the crowd, we only got to view the smile from the one perspective. Maybe next time we’re in the louvre we will stay to the left and report out findings.
The Egyptian section, which resides in the lower basement of the building, is said to be well worth a visit. Having a curiosity about the ancient Egyptians we were excited to see the collection of sarcophagus and other priceless artifacts. So down the flights of stairs we went.
True to French form, the information was lacking. It wasn’t until we rocked up at the entrance that a velvet rope and a guard informed us that the ancient Egypt section was closed today. It turned out we were not the only ones disappointed, we bumped into another couple who were just as discombobulated with the situation.
There were of course countless other relics and masterpieces throughout the louvre but we couldn’t help feel disappointed at a handful of sections been closed, in particular the Egyptian section.
A few hours of wandering the endless halls and meandering into the countless rooms, we made our exit. By this time night had rolled in and Paris was lit up.
A rare sign post pointed in the direction of the eiffle tower. With the eiffle tower, towering above all the surrounding building, it was about the only monument that didn’t require a sign and yet had one. The irony.
We followed the river seine, which runs through the heart of Paris, keeping the tower in our sights. We may have misjudged the distance between the two landmarks. It was a shade over two miles, 3.5km. So it was a good 40 minute walk between the two.
The streets were still bustling as we ate up the meters and grew ever closer to the eiffel tower.
We ducked a left perpendicular to the river, followed by a right and there she was. In all her glory the eiffel tower stood in front of us. No more than 150m away. The clock struck the hour and the light show began. We couldn’t have timed it better. Lights jumped like fairies on the collusus steel frame from one beam to the next, the tower was sparkling from the ground to top.
We stood admiring the structure for the duration of the light show. A short 5 minute spellbounding performance that takes place on the hour. Once over, the structure remains illuminated with the classic searchlight perched at the summit imitating that of a lighthouse.
More touts than tourists were to be found around the base. Each selling identical wares. An array of small, medium and large Eiffel towers that light up. While we understand that people need to make a living it can get rather frustrating when you’re trying to get a photo or spend time together and a constant stream of “good deal, only one euro” follows you.
Walking around the perimeter, we decided to call it an evening and take the metro back to our hotel. Well as close to our hotel as we could get. We forgot we still had a two mile walk once we were off the underground and after covering 15 miles already the additional 2 felt more like 20.
Our hotel came into view and we we made our way to the fourth floor and back into our petite room overlooking the eiffel tower. Brushing our teeth, we headed off to bed ready to be up early for a fun filled day.
The following morning we made our way down to breakfast. It was located on the ground floor, just behind reception. It was sit anywhere and serve yourself buffet.
Been on the continent, it was a continental breakfast. Cold meats, baguettes, cereal and pancakes. The highlight for Meg were the pancakes. Taking the stack, Meg hoped for them to be replaced but the staff were rather lackluster with the replenishment.
Fresh juices were avaliable in the flavours of apple and orange, the orange had the nice little touch of freshly squeezing it yourself. The breakfast was more than adequate to start us up for the day, make no mistake, we would always take a cooked hot full English but for what was avaliable it was a decent breakfast.
Refuelled for the day we had planned a rather intense tour around the main sights of Paris. Taking in the arc de triumph, a walk down the Champs-Élysées to the jardin of Champs-Élysées back past the louvre to see the pyramid during the day, over to notre dame, down to the pantheon and back across to the eiffle tower. Time permitting we were also ambitious to try and squeeze the sacre coeur but via the metro system as its located slightly further afield.
Setting off from the hotel we set off for the arc. Approximately two and half mile from our accommodation. The walk was pleasant for about 95% of the way and things took a turn for the worse.
The arc de triumph came into sight and we were closing in with every step. No more than 250 meters from walking beneath the arch explosions began. Quick successions of bangs were coming from in front of us. One after another. Smoke started to rise and the explosions refused to cease. Sirens could be heard faintly and getting louder. 
Masses of people were on the street, kitted up with gas masks and home made weapons. The yellow vest were on the protest and it wasn’t a peaceful one. Near by cars were set alight, hammers and metal poles were launched into shop windows. Atm were been ripped from the walls. It was time for us to leave.
We turned to make an exit to see another wave of protesters marching towards the epicentre. Blue lights tore through them with the sole aim of getting to the arc. Armoured vehicles with battering rams at the front and a tank for good measure rolled in. Thousands of police poured out the rear doors. Armed with shields, guns and gas masks they made a solid wall with interlocking shields.
Protests launched tear gas, debris and anything they could grab at police accompanied with a chant that seemed to be saying something about death to the police.
With the action been merely meters away the gas drifted into us. Unfortunately we hadn’t come prepared with a yellow vest or a gas mask so suffered the consequences of been gassed. Burning eyes and an uncomfortable itch at the back of your throat that you cannot shake. Memories of the volcano climb in Indonesia came flooding back to us where the high concentration of sulphur would occasionally drift into the crowds and you could do nothing other than keep low and wait for the winds to change.
Our path back was now blocked with a row of police shepherding the protesters into one area. The arc de triumph is layed out like a bike wheel, with twelve spokes coming off from it. As one path was blocked, we had another eleven attempts.
Our second attempted for escape was greeted by the loudest explosion yet. Turns out a home made ramp had been constructed and a bike drove over and exploded into one of the blockade. On to plan C. Ducking down another road police refused to let us past. We were in danger of been cattled into the protest.
The police didn’t seem to be willing to let anyone past. We tried to explain we had nothing to do with the riots but were often greeted with a raising of the shield and a move along signal with the hands. Eventually a bit of luck went out way and down one of the roads the police hadn’t quite gotten the entire street locked down. The width of a footpath was avaliable. We rushed and squeezed through the brief window and were out of the main commotion.
Looks like stop one on the agenda was off the list, along with walking down the avenue Champs-Élysées. We loaded up Google maps and found an alternate route to bring us out by the gardens. Unsurprisingly the detour was a fair bit longer than the direct route. Random streets were road blocked, causing ud to constantly alter our path. We did eventually make the gardens to be greeted with ever gate been on lock down. Nobody allowed in.
Three for three cancelled on our walking tour. As we had lost time been forced to take the lesser travelled routes we planned to make up some time by utilising the metro.
The metro stations are easy to see with a big M and a set of stairs leading down into the subway. A station can be found at pretty much every major tourist attraction and many more in-between. Spotting one close to our location, we crossed the road to access it, only to find the city metro system had been temporarily shut down. Due to protestor using it to move around the city, the police had shut it down to restrict movements. Looks like we are walking.
Zigzagging our way through side streets, trying our best to avoid yellow vest and police road blocks, we ended up back at the louvre. As it was now peak time on a Saturday, it was far busier than last night. Coach loads of people periodically turned up. We would have struggled to have gotten in if we had wanted to!
Stopping briefly to capture the museum in a different light of day we continued our walk towards the eiffle tower with the goal of walking up and admiring the views of Paris.
Having walked from the louvre to the eiffel tower the previous day we were aware a good few miles of road still lay in front off, plus the additional distance to detour to check out some of the other historic sites around the city including that of notre dame.
The miles soon ticked by and Notre Dame could be seen in the distance. Standing proudly on its little island. The street leading up to the cathedral were lined with vendors seller their wares, only marginally better than the tat been sold round the base of the eiffel tower last night! Claims of original copies been advertised for hundreds of euros with no proof other than a sticker that the vendor had placed on themselves. The benchmark of authenticity.
The footpaths were narrow enough with the stalls taking up a good half of the walkway, so any customers Succeeded in grinding the rest of the tourists to a holt. The occasional gap in the wall of vendors allowed for a couple of different angles of the majestic Notre Dame. We snapped a few shots from across the Seine and serval more once we crossed the bridge.
Slowly been dragged along in the current of tourists we ended up outside the front of the Catherdral. Definitely a sight to behold, hundreds of years of history standing before us. The secenes this place must have seen over its long life.
As with most tourist traps now, basic toilets facilities are avaliable, but at a cost. But when you’ve got to go you’ve got to go. €2 for the privilege. We spent a little time walking the perimeter and had a short rest on one of the walls located outside the front. Renovation work was taking place at the time and we were unsure if the wait to get in to see the interior would be worth it, plus the additional time we lost with the lack of metro we decided to push on to go and climb the eiffel tower.
The miles racking up we approached the tower from the opposite direction that we did the previous day. To see Notre dame we had gone further past and looped back round the opposite way. The new approach meant we approached from the garden side, arguably the side you’re suppose to come from. A run of green grass for about 400 meters and the giant metal structure dominating the middle.
About every hundred meters you could duck in to centre yourself up to get the perfect picture. We took several from all the different distances. After witnessing the tower both during the day and at night we both agreed the tower is most impressive during the night. All lit up and doing the light show. Don’t get us wrong, it’s still impressive during daylight hours but just has an extra dash of magic to it at night.
The queue was long. The queue was actually a queue just to get into the grounds. Once in the grounds then you’d have to queue for tickets and then queue to use your tickets. So really, the queue was a preliminary queue for a queue for a queue. Anyway. We queued.
The line was teaduously slow, it operated the same as airport security but without the efficiency. If you just laughed at the lack of airport efficency, then you’ll understand how slow this queue was moving. Bags and coats off, any metal into the tray and step through the scanners. But wait, there is no x-ray machine for your items you just decanted into the small grey tray. A man physically has a mooch around and manually passes the tray to another assistant to give back to you. And if you’ve bought a bag, you’ve just delayed everyone in the another 2 minutes. They have to wait for you open before prodding around with a little stick and randomly getting people to enter the contents. Throw children into the mix as well and you’ve pretty much got a stationary queue.
The only positive were the queues were split into six streams in an attempt to speed up the process. Every queue was as slow as each other but if they were all merged into one we would be looking at hours and hours just to get in.
After about an hour we were at security and our turn to go through the turnstiles. We both proceeded through them and questioned why it was taking people so long. Finally we were in. The entrance we had taken were one of two entrances into the grounds of the eiffel tower and there was only one ticket office open with four windows operational. That’s twelve queues now condensed into four. Turns out perhaps the preliminary queue outside was actually short. Scary thought.
A security lady was standing at the base of as very quiet entrance so we thought we would double check where to get tickets. The majority of people wish to take the elevators up while we were quite fancing the walk. Not only would you get to enjoy the views for longer, its far healthier and not to mention cheaper. Only a couple of euros, but its still cheaper.
It was at this point we were informed that there was a marathon taking place on the stairs. Some sort of special event they do each year where people run up and down a copious amount of stairs. Due to this event, no public access. Closed. Not the best piece of news we had today. We continued our conversation with the lady who also happened to inform us they are only operating one of the lifts. Final nail.
To obtain a ticket for the lifts, which is not the way we wished to ascend, would take at least an hour and the queue which was snaking round the base would take between 3-4hrs. This was ridiculous. Looking at between 4-6hrs to get to the first level of the eiffel tower. We sat down to discuss a plan of action.
We concluded that although not ideal we would leave the ascent of the tower this time. Being in the very fortunate position of living just 3 – 4hrs from the centre of Paris we will have another opportunity to climb the magnificent beast. And when we do climb the tower, it will be via our preferred method of the stairs. 
Slightly dejected from the news we spent some time underneath the structure, walked around and had a browse in the only gift shop on site. The gift shop was selling identical wares to the Nigerians outside. Obviously the gift shops usp was “authentic” which in French obviously means 15x the price. The small statue of the eiffle tower was been priced at 15 euro. No wonder the street sellers do so well with prices like these!
The exit was a lot more streamlined than the entrance. Masses of large revolving doors. We were unfortunate enough to get stuck behind a coach load of kids, presumably on a school outing. A one in ten chance and the sub group of kids we ended up behind for one of the exits turned out to think he was the class clown.
The one child decided not to exit the revolving door when avaliable. These doors move slow, you have about 30 seconds to exit. He made the active choice not to leave but to remain. As the opportunity for him to leave disappeared we were in the next compartment waiting to step out. And then the entire door stopped. Turns out they have a mechanism built in that if anyone decides to be funny and stay in the revolving doors it will stop. Which makes perfect sense otherwise people could bypass the fun security queue.
Our door was now stuck. The clown in one compartment, who was not laughing any more and us in the next compartment waiting to leave. When this happens you just have to wait for a guard to turn up to assess the situation and reverse the doors. You could see by the unimpressed look on the guards face this happens all to regularly.
Finally out, we still wanted to see a few more sights around Paris. The only thing going agaist is was the time. We made our way to the pantheon and had to make a call whether to try to get to sacre coeur or head back to the hotel. By this stage we were only about 3-4 mile from our hotel so should be able to walk it within the hour and as the light started to fail that was our decision.
Our legs were showing signs of slowing down. We had been on them all day and covered some serious ground. So near the end of our journey when the bright red lights could be seen in the distance and the words pizza hut scribbled across them, we were sold. Pizza for dinner.
Two medium pizza, two sides and a 1 litre bottle of coke, €30. Definitely a little on the high side and that was their big promotion. According to the poster that combination would normally set you back €46 so apparently we got a bargain.
Pizzas in hand, our hotel room was calling. The pizza hut was merely 200, 300 yards from our hotel. We are never sure if you can consume take aways in the hotel or whether or not its frowned upon, so taking no risks we consealed our dinner and made our way up to floor 4.
Pizzas open on the bed, megs phone buzzed. A text message. It was off eurostar. “we are sorry to inform you that your 11am train tomorrow morning has been cancelled, sorry for the inconvenience”. We had to check the date.
It wasn’t April. This was an actual text off eurostar. What an unbelievable joke. Cancelling a train with less than a days notice and merely apologising and giving no form of an alterative.
We both were due back at work Monday morning so needed to get back. We had approximately 2-3hrs to sort a route back home. No problem we thought, we’ll just book a flight. Eurostar had obviously sent this message to thousands of people as flights were expensive. £300pp plus luggage was the cheapest going and that was at 5am in the morning. The prices continued rising for the more reasonable timed flights.
Reading the terms and conditions that eurostar sent us for eliminating our transport home stated they’d reimburst for their tickets (how kind reimbursing the tickets they cancelled) and will examine each case individually for any additional costs incurred. Loosely translated as unless you’re important we ain’t reimbursing you for anything! So we couldn’t take the risk of paying over £700 for the cheapest flights without the guarantee of getting it back. We needed a plan B. Perhaps even a C and D.
Understandably we were both annoyed how eurostar had essentially left everyone stranded without a care in the world. It seems to be the case these days, that as long as you’re a big company the little man at the bottom matters very little. So a trip that had been planned, organised and paid for has now been thrown into disarray with an additional cost on top.
Planning began. Coaches, buses, trains, taxis, car rentals, flights from across France were all looked at. Even flights from neighbouring countries in case it was cheaper to make a 6 hr detour into Germany. Hours ticked by and we had a resemblance of a plan. With the potential of others following suit we had to take the calculated risk and purchase the tickets in advance dispite some pretty close transfer times.
1am in the morning, time to get some sleep. We need to be out the hotel by 7:05am.
It felt like we had barely shut our eyes and are alarms were going off. Poor quality of sleep, probably due to the stress of the evening before along with the anticipation of hoping today runs smoothly. We threw on some old comfortable clothes, brushed our teeth, packed the last items of luggage and slung our bags on our backs, here goes nothing.
We went down to reception to check out and grab breakfast on the go. The hotels breakfast ran from 7am-10am, which is why we set our departure at 7:05am so we could grab a couple of croissants and bread rolls to tide us over for the morning. Just so happened this morning breakfast had been pushed back to 8am so they were extending breakfast to be 8-11 instead of 7-10am. Not a great start. Looks like we’re going hungry.
A light drizzle was in the air and we had almost 2 miles to the metro. Our legs were heavy from the previous two days of long walking. The distance seemed like a slog with the weather, the tiredness and our bags. We were pleased when the metro came into sight.
Down the never ending stairs and towards line 1. We had hardly used any of the book of 10 tickets we purchased due to the closure of the underground system yesterday. We placed our ticket in and received, ticket rejected. Meg tried one, John tried one and the same message was appearing for the tickets we were trying. Not what we needed.
Scanning around the sparsely populated Station, a sign said information with a teller in. One person in front of us in the queue, at least its a better queue than the eiffel tower. We waited our turn and explained to the lady that these tickets we purchase yesterday are not working. She took all our remaining tickets and put them through her machine. She informed us that these tickets were not valid, she pointed to one of the two small piles she had created in front of her and the others were okay. The reject pile was all but two of the tickets. This was not right.
We explained the situation yesterday and the fact we only bought the pack of 10 literally a day or two ago. After a broken conversation she agreed to reactive the invalid tickets for us. Honestly we just wanted another set of valid tickets incase we ran in to further problems down the line when time is really of the essence. Actually, what is the time. Our train is due to leave in 8 minutes.
Recall us saying that at least the queue wasn’t as bad as the eiffel tower. Well it was slowly becoming a contender. The operator must have sensed we were in rather a hurry. Probably by the glance at his watch John did to check the time. All of a sudden she seemed to slow down. She informed us she would print new tickets instead. Taking each invalid ticket she placed a red Cross through then and manually recored each ones number on a clip board. Watching someone write out a multiple digit number when youre in some what of a rush is painful. The attendant did this for six tickets, six. A queue had formed behind us and you could sense they were getting disgruntled as well. The new tickets finally began to print.
With new tickets in hand we bounded for metro line 1. Tickets in. Green light. Go. Go. Go. Down and down we went. Been one of the terminuses the train was already in station with the doors open. We slipped in with another gentleman about a minute behind who was in the queue behind us. The other unfortunate souls missed this departure, but for us we were on it.
To get to gard de nord we would require to switch lines about half way through and would be dropped about 300m from Paris’s international train station. After about 9 stops, which felt like way to long, we exited our first train and made our way to our second metro link. We started at a brisk walk to the next platform which upgraded to a jog and then a run ad we watched other passengers in rather a hurry heading past us. Chances are that the individuals on the metro at this time are local commuters and known the timings far better than we do, so if their running, we’re running.
You can imagine a race commentator in a rather pacey voice giving an overview of the transfer “Aaaaaand their off, John and Meg towards the rear of the pack after a great start out the traps the other contenders have over taken, but what’s this, a late sprint finish from Meg and John sees them making up lost ground”
We made our connection. We were in the last little group of four or five to make the closing of the door. The shutting beeps started as we dived through the doors and they shut just seconds afterwards. The metro trains run every 4-7 minutes but we didn’t have that sort of time to play with after the breakfast saga and the ticket issue.
We recovered our breath on the train and anxiously kept clock watching. Estimated 25 minute metro ride plus a 300m walk and our tain is set to leave in 34 minutes to calais. Each station the train pulled up to you hoped it was quite so no delays would incur. Finally a little luck on out side, a smooth journey within Paris.
We left the train, and made our way into the street looking for the station. The station was in sight and we left hot footed towards it. Pretty sure we lapped Roger bannister. We ended up entering the station via the taxi exit and scanning the board for our platform number. Number 18. Where were we. Platform 1. Approx 4 minutes til departure. Time to run again. Platform numbers ticked by, 1, 5, 9, 14, 17 and there’s us, platform 18.
We had downloaded our e tickets onto megs phone the night before as we didn’t have the facility to be printing them. We loaded the tickets up and got the bar code ready. Placed the phone on the gate scanner and nothing. We tried again and again nothing. Turns out the new iPhone update, turns you phone into your debit card for apple pay when you turn it upside down. A little novelty trait that’s suppose to make life convenient was currently making it rather inconvenient.
Approx 2 minutes til departure. A guard must have seen our obvious struggles and trundled towards us.Wielding a scanning gun in hand, he must have seen this before. We exchange words briefly and he scanned megs phone. Carriage one. The train consisted of 26 carriages. We were currently standing at carriage 26. Let us tell you that when you’ve got 60 seconds , those carriages are long. Running down platform 18 john tells Meg that if we run out of time just jump into the nearest door way and we’d make the remainder of the journey to put seats via the interior of the train.
We made our carriage. That or the guard was good enough to delay the train a few seconds as boarded because as soon as we were on, the train was in motion. Trains in Paris, like much of Europe are two tired. We were sitting in the top half. Just a set of stairs to deal with while moving and our seats to locate before we could relax for the journey ahead.
Panting as we placed our rucksacks in the overhead racking the couple opposite us said “eurostar”. They turned out to be English and in the same predicament as ourselves. We had a small chat and discovered they were in fact from just outside Dover, so a ferry wasn’t the worst option for them. We settled down for the hour and a half journey.
Unbeknown to us. The calais train stop is actually a 15 minute drive from the center. In fact, the other couple on the train were also unaware of this fact. We exited the train as instructed and made our way outside the station. Middle-of-the-nowhere. We spotted a van in the carpark stating calais centre printed on an A4 piece of paper. That’ll do.
We discussed with the driver, two euro fifty per person and got ready to jump in when our friends from the train appeared and asked how we are getting into the centre. Explaining that we were just about to jump in the back of this van, they seemed a little hesitant. Repeating “this van”. Reluctantly they followed us.
The van turned out to be legit and dropped us in the town centre. We had booked on a ferry for two hours time. Each ferry required yiu to check in an hour early for passport control and security checks and would have been cutting it too close to get the earlier ferry. The extra hour didn’t faze us and gave us time to locate food, seems that we hadn’t eaten since the previous evening.
Craving some hot food we meandered round some of the cafe but the continental breakfast options were poor at best. We eventually stumbled on a medium sized supermarket where we picked up some croissants, sandwiches, crisps and drinks. We added a few extra pieces for the ferry ride and subsequent travel ahead.
Sitting down outside the shop on a concrete slab a local lady walked past and said something in French before laughing and walking off. We assumed it was something along the lines of how homeless we looked. No sleep, already a long journry, all our belongings with us and starving hungry. Past the point of caring we dug into the food we just purchased.
Finally feeling full, we picked up all our bags and began the mile or so walking to the port. The foot passenger entrance is a little difficult to spot. It was meg who located what looked like a security gate with a pin pad on that was actually open and intended for passengers. We tentatively pushed it open and followed it up and round when we ended up in the ferry terminal.
We did the formalities and were told to wait for boarding. Not too long passed, when a lady popped up and asked the small group that had now congregated to follow her. We were ushered onto a small bus and driven the short distance to passport control. Passport control was fairly smooth, but an unfortunate couple ahead of us were rejected boarding for some unknown reason. All we heard the security guard say was “we don’t just let anybody in”.
Boarding back onto the little bus we made the final short drive to the ferry where we disembarked and boarded. The foot passengers were first on the boat, so we picked prime positions in the cafeteria next to the window and a booth. We treated ourselves to a hot chocolate or two and waited to leave Port.
We watched the final few vehicles been directed on and were on our way. Right on time.
Somewhere on the calm seas, we manged to lose 45 minutes putting us perilously close to missing our onward travel the other end. We had an hour to play with if the crossing was smooth but had now lost 45 minutes of that for some unknown reason. The white cliffs of Dover came into focus and a relaxing journey was turning into another stressful one. 45 minutes pulling in to port and to add insult to injury they appeared to have forgotten about the foot passengers and unloaded all the vehicles before even lowering the bridge for us.
The good news was that the bus was already waiting to take us to the ferry terminal. The not so good news, due to our late arrival in the docks another ferry had pulled in ahead of us and was already in the process of unloading. This mean would could not move until the ferry had completely offloaded. We watched the seconds tick away.
The last few wagons left and we made the ferry terminal with about 8 minutes until our train was due to leave from Dover prior to London St Pancras. Exiting the bus at the same time as ourselves was a couple from Ashford. We found this out during our taxi share with them.
As we stepped off the bus, two ferry loads of people were exiting at the same time and just 3 taxis were in the rank. The guy next to us said to his partner run like the wind and sent him off in the direction of the last few taxis. At this point John enquired to the slower of the two guys whether they were heading to Dover prior and if so may we taxi share. The answer to both was yes. With the guy doing the hard work of sprinting to the taxi we all piled in. 6 minutes.
All four of us explaining to the taxi driver out train departs in 6 minutes, can we make it the 2 mile to the station. The driver rather calmly said of course. That was about the only calm thing about that journey. The driver floored it. Leaving rubber marks on the tarmac we pulled in with just over 60 seconds. The two guys only had access to euros at the time as their sterling was in there larger cases so John covered the cost of the taxi.
All four of us raced into the train and took up seat on either end of the carriage. We pulled out shortly after. A few minutes passed and one of the guys who we shared a taxi with came and found us and gave us there half of the money for the taxi. Although we said it wasn’t a problem, he insisted and said we’re all in thr same situation. So that was very kind of the guy.
This leg of the journey happened to be the shortest, yet the most expensive as we were riding high speed rail one. Just over an hour passed and the announcement was played for London St Pancras.
We disembarked and proceeded to make the 12 minute walk from St Pancras to Euston. We arrived at Euston with twenty four minutes to spare. You heard that right, a whole twenty four minutes early. A big change to the 30 seconds we had been accustomed to today.
A slow walk to the assigned platform and the train was already in. You could sit anywhere in the front four carriages for destinations past Northampton. It’s surprising how many people struggle to follow this direction. As we arrive in Northampton people flock in their droves into our carriages, leaving some standing in the corridor.
The train ride was close to two and a half hours. We disembarked at Birmingham International and had a lift arranged to take us home. After 14 1/2hrs in transit we were finally home. An eventful weekend to say the least. Next stop Croatia.
Waiting at Birmingham Airport for our flight. 
Valletta streets
Few snaps from exploring Valletta 
View point on the way to St Peters Pool
St Peters Pool 
Inside the dark & narrow catacombs!
On the bus!
Corn fields on the walk leading up to the miracle shrine.
Checking out the Blue Lagoon by foot.
John hiding in the caves!
On the train ready for our audio tour
Some of the sights from the train tour
Our train!
Both having a go at driving the boat.
One of the bays we parked in.
Not as warm as it looks!
Luckily there was a little ladder on the back of the boat to get in and out of the water.
Driving back to land.
There’s quite a few red heads in Ireland! 
The Dark Hedges Trees as seen on the Game of Thrones 
The characters that were part of the Dark Hedges scene 
Taking the walk before and after the bridge with lovely scenery 
The rope bridge 
Some of the scenery from the walk 
Natural formation of the rocks 
Natural rock formation 
John at the top of the rocks!
Meg at the top of the rocks (abit nervous of slippy rocks!)
John listening to the audio tour – sat in front of the giants organ! Again, all naturally formed.
The views were impressive from the top – well worth the 162 steps to get up!
Rosemary the Diabetic cat 
John and the Inch Abbey remains 
John and our rental car
Some of the views we managed to capture by camera during the walk 
Enjoying a cuppa at Cafe Nero
We took a walk around Belfast’s German Market
Santa’s Grotto at the German Market
Yet another Christmas tree I couldn’t help but take a picture as it’s so pretty!
Belfast town hall 
Birmingham have a famous Bull, so Belfast have a fish! Known as the ‘Big Fish’
A busy mall with everyone doing last minute Christmas shopping – with lovely Christmas decorations.
Officially tried Irish Guinness! 
Rosemary enjoyed a good bye fuss too!
The Taft Museum of Art
The first concrete sky scrapper in the USA built in 1903
A very cold yet sunny day in Cincinnati 
View of Cincinnati City from the bridge 
The crossing between states 
Our room during our stay in Pittsburgh 
Walking through the city centre 
Wrapped up warm on a very cold/windy day in Pittsburgh 
The inclined tram ride to reach the cities best view point 
One of Pittsburgh’s American Football stadiums. A match was taking place the evening we took this photo.
Trying our best to get a picture of us with the city in the background!
John with Pittsburgh city!
Pretty church we found at the top of the hill, pretty busy what with it being Sunday.
We managed to find a quieter view point so we had all the space we wanted to get a picture! 
‘The Strip’ which hosts the Market (rather pricey) containing meat, fresh produce and American Football merchandise 
Muriel of Pittsburgh 
Quite a large Christmas nativity scene in the centre of town
Pittsburgh courts
Our Double Decker Mega Bus
The US Capital Building
The US Capital Building 
Cold yet sunny in Washington!
Us both with The US Capital Building 
Walk around the lake
The Liberty Congress Building 
Entrance to the Art Gallery 
John with Louie XIV
We found a painting of the church we visited in Amsterdam when we first started our travels in 2015!
The Art Gallery Gardens 
Luckily we’ve never met a real bear but this was close enough!
The ocean section of the museum
Us at the White House
One of The Trump hate camps – somebody was living behind that!
The Abraham Lincoln memorial 
The George Washington Obelisk
John & Megs continued adventures around the world 