The one where Aurelle misses her train to London

Thursday morning I successfully got out of the house and met up with Joe!!! In Paris! (After only twenty minutes of running around trying to find each other in the biggest metro station in Paris, but whatever). We walked around the 4th and the 1st for a bit, and he got his first views of the Eiffel Tower, the Seine, the Louvre, etc. Then we got lunch at this cafe, where I had DELICIOUS eggs and we split a bottle of cheap white wine. Mmm. After lunch I had to say my goodbyes to Joe :( to get on a train to London.

I arrived safely at the train station an hour before my train was leaving, plenty of time to relax and wait for them to announce the track. I assume the train to London works exactly the same as the trains to Brussels and Bordeaux -- why would it be any different? That was my first mistake. When they still haven't announced the track 5 minutes before, I start to get worried. I walk around the station, and see that there's a track, with closed doors, and 15:13 and Eurostar listed, the time and company of my train. But no sign that says London. I'm about to ask the guy sitting behind the closed gates, when an American businessman comes running to the track saying "Is it too late?? Is it too late?" The train worker just points upstairs. I look at the businessman and say "We have to go upstairs?!?" and he's just like "Yeah, good luck making it." I DIDN'T EVEN KNOW THERE WAS AN UPSTAIRS.  I run upstairs with him, and the people say, "You were supposed to check in half an hour before. We can't let you on the train." And I'm just like PLEASE. So they say, "Ok, let me see your passport." My passport. Shit. I forgot my passport.

I tell them this, and they're like "Uh...seriously? You don't have a passport?" And I'm just like "No? Can I use my driver's license?" The guy gives me a crazy look and asks, "Are you from the UK?" I say, no, I'm American. He's like "Uh...let me ask my manager." He asks the manager, and clearly this is not okay. I'm a crazy girl arriving three minutes before the train leaves without a passport, when you were supposed to check in 30 minutes before. No way. The manager is like "You'll have to get on the next train, but I think they're all sold out. Good luck." My heart sinks.

I go downstairs and wait in the 40 minute line to buy a new ticket, where I find out the last available tickets to London are only first class tickets on a train that leaves in an hour and a half. ALL the other tickets are sold out for the day. I try to do the mental calculation, and decide to buy the ticket, hoping I have enough time to go home and get my passport and come back with time to check in.

So I sprint home, grab my passport, sprint back to the train station, and arrive safely in time for the train, dripping with sweat. At last, I make it to London, two hours later than originally planned.

I successfully meet up with Cyrus, and we go back to his dorm and hang out. At last! We hung out, did some pregaming, went to a bar, went back to the train station to pick up Anne, and went back to the bar. Alex bought me my first cider, in exchange for the absinthe I bought him in Barcelona. We had a nice, low-key night at a London bar. On the way home I had the hiccups really bad. I believe the quote was "Fuck my," hiccup, "life."

The beds at the NYU dorm here in London are SO uncomfortable. I'm actually sore this morning because my muscles were tensed up all night. And there was loud-ass hammering at 8:30am. But I got Pret a Manger. The best English chain ever. :)