My friend Elise and I decided several weeks ago that we wanted to go on an international adventure over our February break. We bought cheap plane tickets through Ryanair, managed to find a really great deal on day passes to Disneyland Paris, and stumbled upon a hostel with amazing ratings. A few days before we left, we picked up train tickets to and from Paris, and we thought we were ready. We had no idea what was in store for us.
After walking from our houses at 5 am (it was too early for the trams), we met up at a central location and made our way to the train station. Our train ride went smoothly, and we spent a wonderful morning running around Paris. Above is a picture from a bridge that was covered with hundreds of thousands of locks. People carve their names into them and then lock them onto the fence, thereby sealing their love/friendship/one night stand. Naturally we were too cheap to buy a lock, but Elise and I hijacked somebody else's and carved our names in right by theirs. I hope we didn't curse them out of love or anything.
Our backpacks (affectionately named Seamus and Dean) were bulging with every possible travel necessity. We periodically hauled them off to take a scenic picture in front of some iconic landmark (see above: Notre Dame).
In a small café near Notre Dame we ate traditional French dishes. Elise ordered escargots, and I had soupe à l'oignon. Our waitress was unimpressed that we only ordered appetizers, but they were ridiculously expensive.
We ended up riding this ferris wheel as a whim...and thank God we did. after we got off, I casually asked a woman at the information desk how to get to our airport. She shook her head. "That's 60 kilometers away, you're not going to make it."
Oops. We hadn't Google Mapped our cheap airport, and even though it had Paris in the name, it was nowhere near the Eiffel Tower or the Arc de Triumph. It was around 4 pm when we found this out, and our flight was scheduled to leave at 7:30. We raced to the metro station (shake shake shake shake shake it!) and found our way to the nearest SNCF station. There, we bought what we thought were train tickets, and boarded a train. After about an hour we were informed that the train was stopping and we needed to get off. We realized about 40 seconds before it showed up that we had actually bought bus tickets, and we scampered off to find a mob of people waiting for a bus. There was not nearly enough space, so I fought my way tot he front and snagged us a couple of seats.
When our bus stopped at another SNCF station, we were told that we needed to catch a shuttle to the airport, but it had just left. Luckily it circled around and picked us up, but then made the same circle again. Finally it drove to the airport and we ran into Terminal 1. There we were sent to Terminal 2 which was located all the way across the parking lot. Once there, we realized that we were actually supposed to be in Terminal 1 after all. We made our way back and then finally checked in for our flight.
Ryanair is cheap for a reason. They plane left extremely late, it was dirty, and they left the lights on throughout the entire flight even though it was the middle of the night. When we finally landed in Spain we were greeted with a burst of trumpets and a proud announcement that, despite our late start, we had arrived on time. Elise and I hurried off the plane and asked the nearest airport employee how much a taxi to our hostel would cost. "150 euros."
Wait.
What?
It turns out Ryanair's Barcelona airport is also over an hour outside the city. So we hopped another bus instead of paying for a taxi. When we arrived at the bus station in Barcelona, all of the trams were gone for the night. We waited in a mass of people until finally I couldn't take it anymore. I jumped in front of some women and took their taxi, calling after Elise to get in there immediately. We got to the hostel quickly but found it was locked. Luckily some random guy was chilling in the lobby and let us in. I asked if he worked there and he said no, then asked if I was Emily and pointed me towards a note and a key.
The rest of our trip went much more smoothly, although we had a very similar 12-hour trip back to Paris at the end of the week.
Fish soup in Barcelona.
A famous Spanish statue...it's supposed to be a lady and some birds.
There are palm trees everywhere!
We weren't able to get close to this monument, but it looked gorgeous from afar.
This was one of the busiest parts of the city that we visited, and yet it took us over an hour to find ice cream there.
The beach was absolutely gorgeous. And we made a friend!
Our hostel had a sense of humor about absolutely everything.
Fried anchovies, salad, fries, and a fried egg.
Tapas!
I touched the Mediterranean for the first time.
I spent so much time just relaxing on the beach.
This is the view from just outside our room at the hostel.
Dean and Seamus chilling in front of the Arc de Triomph.
I finally rode Tower of Terror for the first time (after over an hour in line).
Disneyland Paris was a wonderful way to end our week.
This is the Paris castle.
One of Elise's friends was with us and she though this said "A table!" instead of "À table!" (or "to the table!").
Apparently there is no dancing at Disneyland. Handholding, however, is encouraged.
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