Part 1 of 2:
Our massive trek from Santorini to Paris saw us enjoying the best and the worst of the transportation experience. First was an 8 hour ferry ride, first class (all they had left) on the biggest ferry, nay (yes, nay) the biggest boat I've ever been on, which had multiple escalators on it. I know right? Escalators on a boat! The experience reminded us of Titanic, because while we sat in our exclusive first class section others slept on the floor all throughout the boat, looking very depressed. We also noticed one tiny lifeboat, but assured ourselves that like in Titanic, the first class would be evacuated before the commoners. All the trip was missing was dreamy Leonardo to sketch me naked. That taste of luxury was shortly followed by what can only be described as the death bus (the one hour shuttle to the airport packed fuller than a clown car), the airport wait from hell (we arrived at the airport at 2:30am, with checkin at 8:30am, but no matter where you try hide and sleep, airport staff find and wake you), and the not entirely unpleasant flight, but after the previous ordeal we found it hard to enjoy ourselves. One ferry, one bus, one flight and three trains later we were in Paris, and it was all worth it. Arryn and I were particularly happy at the end of the commute, having avoided the hefty train ticket cost by sliding through the luggage hole between gates on our bellies. Painful yet satisfying.
First day in Paris was great despite lack of sleep. We saw that semi-famous dude (famous on YouTube) who does amazing soccer tricks while climbing a pole (which made me think of my cousin Addy who, if I recall correctly, saw him years ago). That day I also visited my first art exhibit, convinced by Zac and Gavin that Salvidor Dali's trippy surrealism is worth 7 Euro - and it was! I loved it and found his creativity and outlook very interesting.. And to think, I didn't even want to visit the Louvre! My first night was spent alone with a 60-something year old Brisbane man and an elderly Indian couple and their children, which is a pretty atypical hostel crowd I would have thought, but the next day my Indian brethren were replaced by the 4 guys, and we partied it up with Rudy from Brisbane all night long.
Day two in Paris began with a 4 hour walking tour with a cynical guide from Perth who had evidently taken the tour one too many times, judging by her mocking of the group's touristy excitement. The walk was very pretty and very interesting, Including (as well as the obvious sights) an ancient obelisk stolen by Napoleon complete with engraved instructions how to erect your own obelisk should you wish to, the intersection on Champs Élysées so dangerous that no insurance company will cover accidents there, and an 8000 Euro a night hotel complete with cannons and a mote to keep the common folk out.
We didn't have to wait long before enjoying authentic French cuisine, with a luncheon of frogs legs (flavorless and odd) and snails (tasted like a strange off-cut of lamb, I thought), which left me with many questions, like why only the legs of the frog and not the rest? Are the snails any different to ones in the garden? How do snails give birth? Is it eggs? And a more arbitrary question, where do sea shells come from? So many questions. So little time.
That night we had a fun pub crawl through the red light district, meeting all sorts of fun tourists along the way (who all say we look older than 18, more like 23, which we enjoy hearing) and passing the Moulin Rouge (What's with the windmill? Is it actually doing anything? Why build a non-functional windmill? What a waste!)
Day three began with a third failed attempt to book transport to Switzerland, at which point me and Zac decided to skip Interlaken and see more France instead. A little disappointing, but backpacking is full of surprises. The Louvre was next, which was very cool and suprisingly tiring, but what I found the most impressive is how much effort must have gone into every intricit detail of every artwork. Surely it is the largest collection of human effort in the world.
That night we climbed a big tower to see a view of the city of lights at night (warmup for the 720 steps of the Eiffel tower tomorrow), but had to leave the metro early due to a disturbance announced in French over the intercom. We asked other passengers why we were leaving the station, and the best English explanation we could get was "a very suspicious baguette". After much pondering and asking we discovered that it was a very suspicious bag, thought to be a bomb. I never did find out whether the metro was blown up - I hope not, it'd be very inconvenient but i'll find out tomorrow morning when we head out for the day, and I'll be sure to let you know..