I never know where to start with such entries, whether it should be jumping straight into the place I've holidayed in, or if I should start right from when our plane shot off the Vancouver runway. I guess it all depends on the interesting factor, and since our flight from Vancouver to London was pretty uneventful, I'll be starting from the touch-down into Gatwick airport.
Did you know that Gatwick is the busiest single runway airport the world? Yeah, bet ya didn't know that! It's two terminals serve 90 different airlines to approximately 200 destinations, so it being a single runaway airport is fairly impressive. Gatwick is located 26KM south of London, with trains and buses running from either direction at regular intervals.
On this particular occasion, we had opted for the train. Bjorn somehow, again, managed to get us a cheap fare into London Bridge, that actually included a daypass for the Underground and all London buses. I'm not entirely sure how he does it, but I'm not willing to question it, as long as he keeps it up. From London Bridge it was to Waterloo (where the Eurostar leaves from), where we decided to dump our bags (for a cost of £6 per bag!) and head out somewhere to have a beer and something delicious to eat. But before any of that could occur, we had to pick up our train tickets for Liverpool the following week.
When Bjorn scored these cheap tickets, he opted to pick them up from Kings Cross St Pancras, on the belief that the two stations still co-existed.
Word from the wise; Don't opt for this if you ever have the choice, because they don't. The signs in Kings Cross that are apparently meant to direct you to St. Pancras are bullshit. Ramps, stairs, streets, almost being run down by nutter taxi drivers, all whilst feeling stinky, tired and hungry, isn't much fun. But we got there in the end and finally hopped a bus to Angel for something to eat.
Unfortunately S&M was too busy, but we did find a nice pub just next door that was serving 2-4-1 roasts (it was a Sunday after all) and of course served the beers we had been yearning for since leaving London the year before. London was a lot warmer than Vancouver had been, so a sleep in the park was due.
Not that I really slept..
Having a few hours to kill while you're in London is great, as long as you're not absolutely exhausted, which unfortunately, we were. So it was back to Waterloo, to wait for our train. The wait there didn't prove to be all that long, and we were soon checked in and waiting for our train to arrive so we could board. I like the Eurostar. Even if plane tickets are/were cheaper, I think I would still opt for the train. The seats are pretty comfortable, it's usually fairly quiet and it takes you directly to the centre of Paris - what more could you ask? This time, we struck a bad one, with an annoying child, that just wouldn't shut up. The parents weren't telling it to be quiet, they were just sitting there, looking around dumbly, as their child disturbed everyone. Even the Frenchies were pissed (what am I saying, the Frenchies are the first to get pissed!). So joy for us, sitting next to some annoying kid, some dumb parents, whilst we were both very tired and wanting to sleep (no luck there).
Arriving in Paris nearly 3 hours later, we experienced our first and last pompous Frenchie. The refusal of some to speak any English. It's one of the things you're bound to notice when in at least Paris (I'd heard it was different in small cities and villages, where the people are much nicer) and something you should definitely take note of. Most people are happy to help you out, and speak a little English (or at least try) then there are others that speak some English to you, if you have tried and spoke a little bit of French to them. Then of course there are others than downright refusal to speak ANY. We found the latter at the entrance to the Gare du Nord Metro.
Now before anybody jumps on me saying that it's their right not to speak English, and that blah blah people should speak the language of where they're wanting to visit, the following is key to understanding why I thought this was so absurd:
1. Gare du Nord. Gare du NORD! This is the hub for most tourists, with the Eurostar making it's home here. Shouldn't there be at least a little bit of English spoken here?!
2. We didn't have a problem with this guy, since it was known to both of us how to ask for a carnet and say our please and thank you's, but unfortunately the people in front of us, who were JAPANESE, only really had English to fall back on, unless of course this Frenchie knew Japanese as well, which I doubted.
3. It's not a crime to not speak English, I know this, but it is pretty damn rude when you're in a customer service position, to sit back in your chair, cross your arms and angrily shake your head and go "no no no no" and just looked really pissed off at anybody wanting even the slightest of help.
Dirty mean French man!
After hopping the Metro, we finally made it to the Hotel Montebello, which was recommended to us by the lovely Karina (we were in number 6!!) and were pleasantly surprised to find that it was a pretty decent hotel for what we were paying.
Our room had a cute little bathroom, toilet, shower, tub-looking-thing that proved to be excellent for washing your feet after a hard day's walking, or storing your cheap Parisian champers/wine/meat/cheese. The bed was comfortable, didn't have fleas, and after our small late night snack of Parisian dim-sum, provided us with our much deserved rest.
More soon!!