Paris in the springtime.. wait, summer

The student bus dropped us off at 7am on a nondescript street in eastern Paris. It was cool, overcast and I was wearing shorts, a T-shirt and jandals. My legs and feet were swollen and my left foot so covered in blisters that it felt like a grumpy hedgehog had been surgically implanted under the skin. I'd had two hours sleep, thanks to a passport check and two 'courtesy stops' and now I had nowhere to stay.

I piqued the curiosity of the few passers-by by changing my shirt and shorts on the pavement, then found the Metro.

I figured the Gare du Nord would be as good a place as any to ask about cheap accommodation, paid my €1.50 fare and headed there.


In twenty years the design of the Paris Metro has changed substantially. The trains are significantly newer - some are without their connecting doors, creating travelling tubes six or more carriages long - and the stations are on the whole cleaner and brighter. Shops, especially at the busier stations, include boutique eateries and the signage throughout has been revamped.

Taking a long-overdue leaf out of the London Underground's book, the Metro map has been redrawn in simplified format. The signs however were clearly designed by a Frenchman with English tourists in mind, as they lure you ever onwards before simply ceasing. In the Gare du Nord they took me to one side of the station and dumped me there. A station map showed the information bureau to be on the other side.

"Bloody frogs," I said, not for the first time in my life.

The Blue Planet Hostel (€21 as opposed to the more common €50) said it was at 28 Boulevard Diderot near the Gare de Lyon but that turned out to be a bag shop. I found the hostel tucked around the corner and looked forward to a lie down.

"Here's your receipt. Come back at three-thirty." It was 9.30am.