Paris was all it was purposed to be: beautiful art, steak and frites on every corner, rude French men that wouldn’t give us directions (and the nice one that did, haha), boys playing soccer outside the Notre Dame, people making out on every stretch of lawn and every bridge, and every bench, and every…well you get the idea. It was a lovely mixture of culture, and food, and romance.

We happened to be in Paris on Bastille Day and were happy to learn that there would be a fireworks show at the Eiffel tower. On the way to the tower we rode the train into town and for some reason it stopped running a couple blocks from where we needed to be. So, we got off and luckily we were at a point where we could sit and watch the fireworks perfectly. At the end of the show some interesting Parisians walked by, doubled back, and sat down with us. They had sharp wits and we ended up playing some “getting-to-know-you” games that I can’t remember. They made fun of us and we made fun of them and we all had a merry time.

The bus ride back to the hostel- not so merry. The trains had stopped running and thousands of people were trying to use the last remaining cheap public transportation available. Everyone on the bus was screaming for the bus driver to stop stopping at the stops because there was no way we could cram any more people onto our bus. We would pull up to a stop and there would be a hundred people there and two would get on… we were very thankful that we had been one of the first few stops.