Paris
Where the French speak... English!
Three years of high school French meant jack shit while I was in Paris.

I was at the top of the towers of Notre Dame and was about to leave when the attendent said "au revoir." I said "huh?" like four times before she finally screamed at me, "BYE!"

I suck big donkey balls!

Anyway, I rode the Eurostar to Paris, educating myself on the subway system and totally planning my personal tour route to maximize sightseeing efficiency. And it worked, aside from one slight snag in my plans. British pounds don't exactly work as French francs.

So here I was staring at the price to have the pleasure of climbing 300 stairs to the top of L'Arc de Triomphe. Buying two tickets would have pushed me just beyond the credit card minimum purchase. But I was standing in some sort of underground passageway and the thought of trying to sell the other ticket, haggling with someone over prices as flashbacks of my beating in the pedestrian subway of Coventry played over and over in my head... just didn't sound appealing.

So I bought this overpriced card that would let me in on a lot of Parisian monuments and museums for free during the span of three days. 

Turns out that card really helped.

I arrived at Notre Dame rush hour or something. There was this huge-ass line to go up the steps of the towers of the cathedral. Then I saw this sign that said certain people with a certain type of card get to cut to the front of the line...

Wo-hoo!

Waiting in that line would have totally fucked up my schedule.

I couldn't help gloating as I passed up all those people and entered the building... hehe... suckers!

And the view up there rocked...

Anyway, I had some time to get a crepe from a street vendor (yummy!) outside La Samaritaine before taking a boat tour on the Seine to the Eiffel Tower.

Too bad I was still hungry and couldn't get to Hard Rock in time to actually eat. I ordered food and stuff, but the cook took so long that I had to get it to go and try to find another place to eat it.

I ended up throwing it in the trash.

Oh, well. At least I got souvenir pilsner out of it!