Paris

I was awake long before the train pulled into the Gare du Nord station, but it wasn't until I walked onto the platform when I fell in love with Paris. There is something in the air that defines it as a different world from what I had known (it could be the pervasive stench of sewar and stale urine though). I was indecive at first, I did not have a place to stay nor did I really know where I was going. The line at the tourist information booth was long and showed no signs of moving, I just couldn't be bothered to wait for it. At first I thought I would use the small map in my Lonely Planet booked, but when I walked outside I realized that would be a disaster. Searching the kiosk like stores in the Gare, I finally found one that sold maps. The guy at the counter had picked me out for a foreigner long before I had said anything and spoke to me in English. When asked, he said I didn't walk or act like a Parisian, I don't think it was meant as an insult. He did guess I was northern European though, but I think that is a fair assessment.

My plane was to walk to the nearest hostel to the Gare, according to my book. I could have taken the subway, but I wanted to strectch my legs and walk a bit. A city is always much bigger when you are walking it for the first time and it was taking me a long time to get anywhere (for the record, only one wrong turn). Long before I reached the hostel I was looking for, I don't even remember which one, I was stopped by a young Italian man as I pass through the Place de la Republique. I usually am loath to bother speaking to people handing out flyers, but acting on instinct alone, I stopped for him. He had picked me out of the crowd because of my pack and asked if I was looking for a hostel.

I came to Paris, at the hight of tourist season, not having booked a hostel, most people would say that is a foolish and risky thing to do, but I knew I would find a place.

I let him direct me to the subway, he explained where I had to get off and how to find the hostel from the stop. Indeed, his instructions were good and I was able to get there easily.

The Hostel. Pushing open the ancient wooden doors, I found myself in a dark hallway with no apparent lighting. After a moment, my eyes adjusted to the darkness and I was able to read the sign directing me to the second level for the hostel. Holding the railing to support myself under my heavy bag as I climbed the centuries old granite stairs with the centres long worn into deep dips, I came to another ancient double wooden door. It wasn't locked and I pushed through to find an old African man talking to another person. The door had led me into the middle of what appeared to be an apartment turned dorm. Leading me away, the African man took my details and money in the the small and cluttered kitchen that also double as the office.

The grand tour followed and I followed him into the adgencent room off the kitchen, what might be described as the dinning area, if I were generous. It was a room about 4x4 metres, give or take, that had a low and shallow counter on three of its sides. There were collapsable chairs stacked neatly in one corner. On one of the shelves was a postcard from Vancouver thanking the Hostel for its "Wonderful Breakfast", there was no sender's address.

From the kitchen, into the dining room, then down to the stairs to the right was the washing area, split into two halves after the stairs. On one side, there were two stalls with toilets, fortunately the walls went to the floor and there was a cieling affording some privacy. Directly across the stalls were the two shower stall (at a cost of 1€) bracketing the two sinks with mirrors. On the other side of the hall were another row of sinks and mirrors.

Passing through the hallway, there was a dorm on the left, across from the entrance, was the mixed dorm for what appeared to be couples. Bunk beds had been pushed together to create double beds. Through that room was the very small room where eight Africans lived. Next to that was the girls room and immediately to the left of the main door was the boys room. An oddly angled room with ten bunks. I knew then it was going to be a smelly, noisy stay. I settled into my room (I threw my bag on a free bunk) and decided to enjoy Paris a little.

I went to the first obvious place, the Eiffel tower. Two things I learned about the Eiffel tower; first, it was much further away than I expected and secondly, it was much bigger than I expected. The Tower is surronded by a pretty park which is filled with tourists taking the same photo. I considered going up to the top to enjoy the experienceI didn't feel like waiting in line for an hour or paying the 18€ to go up alone, so I vowed to return when I could go up with some one special...