‘That’s just what you get in Friend’s hostel’. Paris, take two.

After already being to Paris once before, I felt as though I was prepared. I knew how the metro was, I knew that things were expensive and I knew that it was a beautiful city. Obviously I had not ventured into the outer district of Barbès Rochechouart where our hostel ‘Friends’ was located.

At first glance, the hostel itself looked fine and the staff seemed nice enough. Outside however, we discovered as we searched for a supermarket, that men would hang around and make sleazy remarks like ‘ma cherie’ or ‘mon amour’ or the occasional ‘mon petit chou’ (no actually they didn’t say that. But if you were wondering, it translates to ‘my little cabbage’.), whilst trying to sell you cigarettes. But you get the point. We were situated in the red light district, or, one of them.  But no worries, after we spent the afternoon in notre dame watching the organ being played, searched around, finally found a supermarket, got back to the hostel, ate pasta, met some wonderful people from all over including 2 people from Montreal, a girl from England, a guy from Yugoslavia (I think), 3 people from the USA and a guy from Mexico and overall had a quite dandy sort of night. Quite dandy that in fact, we were all planning to meet up at the hostel again the next night and go out as a group.

The next day Alice and I got up early as we were planning to hire bikes for the day (they were 1.70 Euros to hire for the day compared to 6.80 Euro day pass on the metro). There were no bikes at the station near to us, so we walked down the road until we found some. From there we rode past Notre Dame to St Michel Boulevard where we thought the Sandeman’s walking tour started from. After walking around block after block and eventually giving up finding the walking tour, we decided to ride out to the cemetery where Oscar Wilde was buried.
We were so amazed at the size of the cemetery and the amount of trees. It was actually quite pretty inside, although I wouldn’t ever want to be stuck in there at night! Especially near Oscar Wilde’s grave, that thing has a creepiness of it’s own, as it is covered in lipstick kiss marks. It is beautiful in one respect but extremely creepy in another.

We had lunch after visiting Oscar Wilde’s grave and then decided to ride once again back into town, but this time, to the Perfume museum. For anyone who types ‘free things to do in Paris’ into Google and gets the ‘perfume museum’, take my advice and skip it. Feeling disappointed with the museum we left and road to a small park before riding further to Sacre Coeur. The view up from the top was unbelievable. It is really a mistake of tourist maps not to mention it in greater detail. Check it out (obviously a lot better in person):

After bumping into Nick (one of the guys from the hostel, from the USA), we lay on the grassy hill and simply cloud-watched. Further up the hill we went after looking at the sheep clouds, further, until we reached the top and looked in the actual Sacre Coeur Cathedral (after seeing so many cathedrals, mosques and churches, we tend to limit our time spent in them).

We ventured just around the corner afterwards, where all the artists and musicians were. It was a great atmosphere to be surrounded by, as many people from all different places, races, nationalities and interests seemed to come and enjoy the beauty of the area. We were no different and took lots of photos of the views that stretched around us.

After our tummies seemed to gurgle a tad, we made the decision to head back to the hostel. There, we ate pasta again (it’s cheap!). Slowly more and more people came to the hostel ‘meeting area’ where we said our goodbyes to Anna (the English girl) and all grouped to go out together into the Paris night. When everyone had arrived back to the hostel we all sat chatting for a while and met some new-comers from the USA (2 guys) and another guy from Australia named James. All of us left who wanted to go out (the USA couple, James the Aussie, Yugo guy, Mexican guy, nick the Californian, the French girls staying in our dorm and the Montreal guy and girl) bought some cheap wine (it’s great meeting other people who are similar to you, or, as we say, have similar budgets) and headed up to Sacre Coeur. It was so amazing up there, as there were heaps and heaps of people sitting together, having a dandy old time. We were no exception as we too sat on the hill, sang lots of songs (from Bob Marley to Queen), enjoyed watching a happy drunkard dancing to Michael Jackson and sang some more. After, we headed to the very top of the hill where we met a Parisian playing guitar. There, in front of the picturesque panoramic view of Paris we all sang and danced until the early hours of the morning.

(from here I have seemed to misplace some of the photos, so, when I find them I will add them to the blog. Sorry for the inconvenience!)
The next day was a Tuesday (for all those wondering) and we had to check out of the hostel by 9am. We had decided the previous day to go to the Odilon Redon exhibition at the Grand Palais but unfortunately, it was not open to the public on Tuesdays so we decided just to take a walk along the Seine before attending our walking tour at 11am. The walk was really lovely and gave Alice and I a chance to reflect on our journey together. As we see magnificent places and things most days we sometimes get lost and don’t really give our travels the credit they deserve. It’s nice sometimes just to say ‘wow, we’re in Paris!’
After our great moment of ‘wow’, we headed to the walking tour and fortunately made it this time.
The first destination on the walking tour was the fountain of St Michel (insert information here). I know that’s pretty terrible of me, but I have completely forgotten who St Michel was and why there is a fountain in the centre of Paris dedicated to him. This is where I’ll say to you one of my favourite quotes-‘when life poses you questions, Google has answers’ (that quote came from Google). We then headed to the old palace that the French resistance fired bullets at. Now, you’re probably thinking ‘um Sarah, you haven’t exactly explained why the French resistance fired bullets at this old palace’ and so I will answer you thus; I think it had something to do with the Germans occupying the building and I can’t remember everything about every place we see and for that, I would like to add that I apologise for being human! Haha
We were then ushered down some stairs and stood next to the Seine whilst the tour man told us the story behind a bridge. Now, if you were just a tourist in Pairs or perhaps even a Parisian without knowledge of the history of Paris you would probably just walk past this bridge and say ‘oh yeah, just a bridge with some weird looking faces on it’. Now, (without trying to sound like a promo for NEW EUROPE SANDEMAN’s TOURS) this is what I love about Sandeman’s tours, you find out some quirky information about a city’s history that you would never know otherwise. Did I mention that I love Sandeman’s tours? Sorry, back to the cool bridge…So, King Henry IV built this bridge and called it the new bridge (Parisians are very creative at naming things). This bridge was special at the time because it was made out of stone whereas bridges at the time were made out of wood. After many people laughing at the idea of a stone bridge (they thought it would just fall down, which, it did many times) and years after years of building, the bridge was built and remains one of the oldest bridges in Paris. However, this is not the end of the story. King Henry IV was so happy that the bridge was a success that he held a party for 200 of his closest friends to celebrate whereby he let everyone drink all his excellent quality wine. However, they got through the wine and therefore King Henry IV got out his champagne stash. King Henry IV was so pleased (and drunk) that he ordered everyone at the party to have their portraits done so that they could remember this great night. So, you can imagine 200 drunken portraits of the king’s closest friends or, if you cannot imagine it have a look at this bridge which has all the faces of the king’s drunken friends on it. You see, the king was so happy with the night and the bridge that he got a sculptor to sculpt all the faces from the portraits and put them on the bridge.
We soldiered on to the statue of King someone (once again I have forgotten his name. I think it was either Louis). This king was constantly under threat from being assassinated but was assured that he was invincible (as he had not yet died after so many assassination attempts). Yet, this was his downfall one night in a carriage when he was stabbed by an assassination attempt. He did not die from the first stab wound, but when provoking the assassinator with the words ‘you’ll have to do better than that to kill me’ he saw the assassinator stab a second time and this killed him. It is this statue of the king that the tour guide informed us about the horse he was riding. Because the horse was standing with one front leg up and one back leg up, it meant the king died unnaturally. He continued by filling us in that it applies for 90% of horse and rider statues. If the horse has two front legs up and standing on its back legs, then it means the rider died heroically. If the horse has all feet down then the rider died naturally. So, next time you see a statue you can like us, know how to tell how the rider died. Isn’t that cool!?
Unfortunately for the assassinator, his end was not so great. The king who he had stabbed had generated a sort of ‘liking’ from his people, thus they were quite annoyed by the fact of his death. Therefore, the King’s assassinator was tortured but not just tortured; the people believed that they needed a new harsher method of torture to kill the assassinator who killed their beloved king. So, they created a list and on the top of it was the idea of dipping the man in acid. However, this did not kill him. Next, they dipped him in lead. Yet, once again, this did not kill him. For a couple of days they then took out his organs one by one to see how long he could live for but, he still did not die. The people were very surprised by the assassinator and were get a bit sick of him still being alive and a bit worried that he was invincible. So after all this business of torture they reverted to the old style method whereby they would apply the hung, drawn and quartered technique. This finally killed the man.
After that gruesome story we then headed to a bridge where we would hear a different story, this one, of love.  The bridge was covered in locks and the theory behind it is that men buy their ‘love’ a lock to lock onto the bridge. Then, they would give them the key to throw into the river and say ‘now, you have the key to my heart!’ But when you walk along the bridge you sometimes see a combination lock. This is for the guys who have several ‘loves’. They can use another corny line that goes like this; ‘now only you have the combination to my heart’ (the combination locks were handy, for if that attempt didn’t work, the man can simply go back undo the lock and try his corny line on another so-called ‘love’). Funnily enough the lock bridge was generated from an episode of sex and the city!
Out tour continued with the following places (see if you can recognise and name any of them):
Did you know that the Eiffel tower makes 48 million a year and only makes 8 million profit due to the light show and repairs!?
Our tour terminated on a green patch of grass where the tour guide told us a story of the 2^nd world war when Hitler and the Nazi’s occupied Paris. Hitler was visiting Paris and went to see the tomb of Napoleon. Now, Napoleon had built his tomb down low in the ground so that whenever anyone came to visit him they would have to bend down to look at his tomb and thus, make a bowing action. Hitler, believing himself greater than any other human in any lifetime refused to bend over and bow to Napoleon and thus ordered a mirror to be brought so that he could position it to see the tomb of Napoleon. Unfortunately for Hitler, after trying very hard to position the mirror to see Napoleon, he bent backwards and his hat fell off. Embarrassed at his hat falling off, he quickly turned around and picked it up. Think of that action in your head. The action of Hitler turning around, picking up his hat and standing up created the most formal, noble and respectful curtsey type bow.  The second story that the guide told us about lay near the end of the war. Hitler had been worried that the French resistance would re-capture Paris and thus went with the notion ‘well if I can’t have it, then nobody can!’  Here therefore made the order for it to be blown up. The French guy (insert name from Wikipedia) in charge of the whole operation didn’t really want to do it. If he did it, he would be in trouble with the French Resistance. If he didn’t do it, Hitler would kill him and his family. So he was in a bit of a tricky situation. Luckily enough, after receiving the order from Hitler and informing the French Resistance of Hitler’s plans, he decided to make the Grand Palais the first place that he would blow up. This particular building blew up in such a way that created a big black cloud of smoke over Paris that could be seen for miles and miles. Thus, Hitler really believed Paris was burning which gave the French Resistance enough time to re-capture Paris. 

After the walking tour, we made our way back to the hostel. However, as we were on the metro we saw that the stop of the ‘Moulin Rouge’ was on the way so hopped off and took some photos before heading back to our hostel. That night, we headed to a station to meet Remi, whose couch we would be staying on that night (this was to be our first couch surfing experience). It was quite a lovely first experience as we spent the evening having a picnic in front of the Eiffel Tower (we even stayed long enough to see the Eiffel tower light up!). However, we were soon reminded that with good comes bad and as we were in a tourist pickpocket hot zone, the bad came in the form of Alice’s purse getting stolen. Luckily though, her passport was not in there.

The next morning brought a new day and a new hope. We were off to Bruges in Belgium! Here we come chocolate, beer and waffles!

Please note. Firstly, for anyone hoping to travel to Paris and experience a romantic, clean and cockroach-free experience, do yourself a favour and do not stay at Friend’s hostel.
Secondly, anyone wanting the worst hostel ever to be able to compare other hostels to, then ‘Friend’s hostel’ is the best! The following is an example of such backpacker chats- this hostel is horrible, but it’s no friend’s hostel’. True story.
I would like to end this blog on a good note and I always like to dedicate a seperate section to the art that we tend to stumble upon whilst traveling. This is a little of what we found in Paris:

Stick a red dot on Wales.

Sleep was well needed on the drive to Cardiff. But none was really had. We arrived to Cardiff (well to be exact, Sully, which is just outside Cardiff and Penarth) on Monday afternoon and settled in by eating some snacks and going for a walk along the Penarth pier.
I had not really met Alice’s Welsh grandparents before (except when I was quite little) and I was made to feel at home by their generosity and kindness from the very first day that they invited me into their house.
The following day we took a trip into Cardiff to look around and have some lunch. Lunch unexpectedly took place on a boat whereby food was cheap and service was good. I found Cardiff to be a gorgeous little city with its little perks like the boat lunch and the fact that the filming of Dr Who took place there!
That night we ate well yet again, visiting the carvery for dinner.

 

The days seemed to have flown by, with Wednesday morning bringing the departure of Izzy and Gina and therefore, a big moment in Alice’s and my own journey. We were for the first time without parents (disregarding grandparents!). We saw this as a sign to get planning and got out our big map of Europe. The decision was soon made after an e-mail from my cousin Bree, to change the direction of our journey completely. You see we were planning to head to Portugal then Spain and come across Europe that way; however, Bree instructed us that the rail line in Spain isn’t the best. Having already bought our Eurail passes (and our train tickets from Cardiff to Portsmouth and ferry to Le Havre), the decision was made to go from Le Havre to Paris then on to Belgium and the Netherlands.  We were quite happy with ourselves after that red dot planning session (red dots indicate where were want to go on our map of Europe) and celebrated by taking a trip into Penarth to the op shops.
I honestly don’t think that I have seen so many op shops so close together! Between about 100m there were 6 op shops! I almost lost myself, but managed to come out with only one new dress.
We further treated ourselves by popping into a coffee shop in Penarth called ‘Coffee #1’. It was there I was pleasured to the best tasting coffee that I have had the whole time I have been in Europe (they honestly don’t know how to do a coffee like Australia).
That night we took a drive to Barry and walked along the seaside to view a spectacular sight of the sunrays peeping through the clouds and reflect off the water.

I’ve got Friday on my mind. Our Eurail passes were supposed to arrive in the mail. In the morning, 100% on time delivery they said (we had paid 45 dollars to ensure this). On time delivery=no chance. We had to drive to Newport to pick them up. I guess the important thing was that we had them right?

It is now 12:18 on Sunday the 8^th of May. As I am typing this, I am currently sitting in a train that is heading to Paris after saying goodbye to Alice’s grandparents in Cardiff and thus, truly starting my travelling adventure with my gorgeous long-time friend Alice. In the last 24 hours of our adventure we have already caught 1 train, 1 taxi, 1 ferry, crossed 1 Channel slept on 1 incredibly hard floor, caught 1 bus and travelled to 1 new city. I wonder what Paris will bring us for the second time around…only one way to find out I suppose!
Check out the slogan for our ferry company! It makes me laugh every time!

London-when in doubt, look up.

After catching the train from Stratford on the Saturday morning, Alice and I arrived in London around 10:30. After missing our road several times, we finally managed to locate the hostel in which we would be staying for the next 2 nights. Handily having had the party the day before, there were plenty of leftovers for a packed lunch that we took down to Hyde Park, which was conveniently placed at the end of our road. After thoroughly enjoying our lettuce, cucumber, Camembert and hummus baguettes, Alice and I thought of nothing better to do than take a walk to the other side of the very luscious and green Hyde Park (for all those in Castlemaine, think Botanical Garden but 100x bigger and greener. Although, I do enjoy a good picnic in the Castlemaine bot gardens!)

After reaching a train station we made our way north to Camden and to Camden Market where we had constantly been told to visit by several Australians. Camden was colourful, lively, vivacious and exciting as people flooded the sunny day streets. From the very first sight of Doc Martins, Camden Market played temptress with our money pockets, with my money pocket being sucked into her beauty once or twice (or, possibly thrice).
We managed to escape the depths of Camden Market and wondered into a vintage shop on the side of a street. We walked to the top of the vintage shop and by chance stumbled upon a rooftop music gig. After sitting and listening to the music for a while we realised some of the people had booklets and with closer inspection we discovered that we were in Camden on the day of the Camden Music Festival (think, St Kilda Festival without the beach). It was fortunate luck for us to be there on that day, and more fortunate still, that we got into the main stage for free. We danced for a while before realising that we needed a beer and headed to the closest pub. Looking at the program and not knowing a single artist, Alice and I decided to venture further along the street. After eating some Thai I got a message from a fellow bridesmaid (for all those going ‘huh!?’ right now, I am a bridesmaid in my brother’s wedding in November) named Kate and we set our paths for Covent Garden.

There, we met Kate and she took us around London, pointing us to various places and providing some interesting unknown facts before we sat ourselves in a bar and drank the best alcoholic ginger beer. At the sound of my tummy grumbling (possibly unheard by the rest of the party) we headed to another pub for cider, beer and dinner. I had nachos, Alice had a burger and Kate did the traditional Bangers and Mash.

On Sunday there were no beautiful packed lunches or leftovers. After getting up later than expected, we went and got bread and jam. This was to be our meal for breakfast and lunch.  When we visited the Cotswolds the week before, a man working in the pub had told us about a really great walking tour group called Sandeman’s. Oh, and he also mentioned that it was ‘free’. Being backpackers, Alice and I take much pleasure in the word ‘free’. So, that became our plan for the Sunday. The tour started at 11 and although we were 15 mins late we met up with Izzy and were lucky enough to still go on the tour. The tour started at Wellington arch. Here, the tour guide told us that Wellington Arch was built after the English defeated the French and was named after Arthur Wellesley, 1^st Duke of Wellington. Now for anyone who is unaware, the French and the English have a sort of rivalry. The English don’t like the French…The French had built the Arc de Triumph before they had won the war, so the English decided to build an arch that was bigger and better than the Arc de Triumph. Let’s just say they were unsuccessful. Not only was the Wellington Arch about 10x smaller than the Arc de Triumph, the queen actually complained about the ugliness of the statue of Wellington that was visible from her window as it stood on top of the Wellington arch. The statue on the top was therefore changed but the Arch still remains smaller than the Arc de Triumph.

We continued on to Buckingham palace where we stopped for a while to see the changing of the guard, before the tour guide let us in on the story of the history of the Buckingham break-ins. First, she told us about 2 Germans who were camping in Hyde Park and got lost. They climbed over a wall of what they thought was Hyde Park and pitched their tents on the other side. In the morning, they found it rather difficult to get out and after spotting a security guard they went up to him and asked, “How do you get out”? The security guard astonished, replied, “how did you get in”!? They weren’t in Hyde Park, but in fact, Buckingham Palace. The next story took place in the 80’s. An alcoholic Irishman who had been sleeping on park benches in Hyde Park ran out of booze and went searching for some more. Coming across the Palace he saw an open window and went for it, jumping over the wall and into the window where he stumbled upon a cabinet filled with the Queen’s personal wine stash. The Irishman took a few bottles and left the way he came, quite satisfied with himself. That was the first time he broke in. The second time, he decided that he would have a bit more of a look around. He climbed over the wall, discovered that there was no open window so, broke a window and climbed through. Having another dip into the Queen’s wine, the Irishman continued further having a sit on the throne and having a better look around. You may be thinking as I did, ‘but how can a drunk Irishman get all the way into the centre of the Palace without setting off any alarms’? Well, apparently there was a new security guy working the desk that night and saw the alarms going off in the very centre of the palace. He thought it truly impossible that anyone could possibly be in the very centre of Buckingham Palace and thought it must be a fault in the alarms. Therefore, he turned the alarms off before anyone woke.
The Irishman, becoming quite tired from all this walking decided to set off in the direction of the bedrooms. Finding a bed, he flopped down at the base of it. Now on this particular night Queen Elizabeth was home. And in her bed.
Startled by the fact of a drunk Irishman passed out on the end of her bed, Queen Elizabeth pressed her alarm button several times. After realising that no one was going to come she started up a conversation with the drunk Irishman. Apparently the Queen and the Irishman both had four kids. However, soon enough an awkward silence arose (as there is only so much that the Queen and a drunk Irishman can have in common). To break the silence the drunk Irishman asked the Queen if she had a cigarette. The queen not having a cigarette, told the Irishman that her footman smoked and she could phone him up and get him to bring him one. The Irishman thought this a good idea, so the queen rang up and her maid answered. The queen calmly said down the phone “oh yes, I would like a cigarette for the drunk Irishman in my bedroom.” The maid was confused and the Queen further said, “THE DRUNK IRISHMAN in MY ROOM would like a cigarette.” It was not before long that the maid and the footman came rushing into the Queen’s bedroom, the footman grabbed and sat on the Irishman and the Irishman was sent back to Ireland to his wife who divorced him for not shutting up about his new best friend, the Queen. Funny enough, because of the royalty having special laws on ‘their land’, the only thing the drunk Irishman could be charged for was stealing a bottle of wine.

From Buckingham Palace we continued our walk until we reached St James’s Palace.  This is where Henry the Eighth was commissioned. Thus, the guide told us a bit about Henry and his six wives.

We continued on, stopping briefly in front of a gentleman’s club that apparently would cost you 8000 Euros to become a member of (I think I prefer travelling the world thanks!). 

Afterwards, we continued on our walk until reaching Trafalgar square. There, the tour guide told us about Nelson’s column, which was built to commemorate Admiral Horatio Nelson, who died in the battle of Trafalgar in 1805. Now, Admiral Nelson was like a hero to the sailors, so when he died in the battle of Trafalgar, they could not possibly leave his body behind. Therefore, they squished his body into a barrel filled with alcohol (to preserve the body) and put it on the ship back to England. Supposedly, when the ship had arrived back to England and the sailors went to lift the barrel, they found it lighter than when they had carried it onto the ship.  On the journey home the sailors were in need of alcohol but had not been sure which barrel had Nelson in it and which one had purely alcohol. Thus, Nelson’s barrel was lighter at the end of the voyage.

 From the slightly off-putting story at Trafalgar Square the guide ushered us forward to a place where the queen sits annually on her birthday and the 2012 Olympic beach volleyball will be held (I am sorry but I’ve forgotten the name of the place).

From the place that can’t be named, we walked to Churchill’s War Cabinet bunker. Winston Churchill was a bit of misogynist. One of my favourite quotes that the guide mentioned from Winston was that of a conversation between a woman and Winston. The woman came up to him (she was not a fan of him) (and he was drunk) and said’ Mr Churchill, you are drunk!’ Now Winston replied, ‘I may be drunk madam but in the morning I, will be sober whereas, you will still be ugly.’
As we sat for a little at Churchill’s War Cabinet Bunker the guide directed our views to St James’s Park. In the park, lived pelicans from Russia. For you see, any time someone comes to visit the queen, they give her exotic things from their country (what else can you get the queen?). But you see, these Russian pelicans are no ordinary pelicans. They are pigeon eating pelicans. Apparently if you type it into Youtube, you can get a good shot of a pelican eating a live pigeon (I didn’t just do that).
This was just a boulder near the park that I thought was cool.

Walking further on our tour took us past some amazing architecture before leading up to Big Ben, Westminster Abbey and the Houses of Parliament (there were several stories with these big sights, but at this point, my fingers are getting tired..., sorry). 

After the tour had finished I felt as though I had grasped a lot more about the city of London. It was a great, interesting and funny tour, which I would recommend to anyone visiting a new city (even just to get your bearings).

All very pleased with the tour, we tipped the guide and headed back into town. We had lunch in Trafalgar square and watched the protest that was going on there at the time (from the look of the many signs of Lenin, quotes of Stalin, and flocks of red I guessed a Soviet/Communist protest, and i was right). 

We headed into the Portrait gallery after the protest and after seeing some street dancers. We decided on Oxford Street as our next stop so that we could meet up for a coffee at Starbucks with Alice’s oldest friend, Ellie (Starbucks seems to be the place to go in Europe as you can always trust that the coffee won’t be absolutely terrible as it generally is in most cafes!) After the lovely catch up, Alice and I only had limited time until our planned ‘one big night out pub crawl’ tour with the same company that we had gone on the walking tour earlier that day. We opted for two-minute noodles for that particular reason and also for the reason that there were no tea towels at the hostel meaning all dishes would be permanently wet.
The pub crawl started in a bar in Covent Garden. There, we got a free shot and 2 pound pints (for the whole night our arm band with the ‘one night out pub crawl’ supplied us with a free shot at each pub/club and special deals on particular drinks). Our next stop that Sam (our pub tour guide aka ‘Sam, Sam he’s our man, if he can’t do it no one can!’) took us to was sort of a pub club. It was at this second destination where we met two lovely Spanish girls who we ended up dancing with practically the whole night. We also met 2 Irish girls, 2 girls who looked like they were out of the British show ‘The only way is Essex’, 2 little English boys from the army who insisted that Alice and I feel their short and even shorter hair, 3 French girls, one who was celebrating her 25^th birthday, an Australian guy and 3 lovely Spanish guys. As you can see, the pub-crawl we went on was very multi-cultural!
We continued for 2 more pub/club type places before ending at our final destination Ministry of Sound. Getting in was like going through an airport, or, possibly worse. The lady who strip searched me went through every little zip and pocket in my bag, took out my camera from it’s case and looked at it, took out my phone and opened it and finally after about 5 to 10 minutes decided that I was not a homicidal maniac, and let me through. The night concluded by a lovely taxi ride home with the 3 very lovely, quite honourable Spanish guys we had met earlier that night.  I left the taxi with green writing all down my arm which read ‘Daivd Munoz Frances, I <3 U’ (due to a conversation had in the taxi, I was to add him on facebook and come to Madrid!)

The next morning was an early start as we were to meet Gina and Izzy and drive to Cardiff where we would be staying for the next 3ish days. Frazer was off to Fleet meaning that we had to say our goodbyes. It was weird saying goodbye to him, after spending some lovely moments with him and then having to say goodbye, it was starting to feel as though Alice and I would be flying duo before we knew it!
To finish off this post, I would just like to say that you can achieve so much visual pleasure, but just looking up. This is what I saw when I looked up in London: