Paris - Day Two

I woke up early, slipped out of my dorm and made it to reception just in time to intercept a call from Vicky Wong - an old friend from working at Hilton Cardiff. Judging by the symphony of snoring that I awoke to I don't think the other guys in my room would have been pleased if they'd been woken up by phone calls for me. A couple of days in and I'm already regretting not bringing my mobile...

I arranged to meet Vicky outside Notre Dame in a couple of hours, and headed off across town. Any first day blues that may have lingered quickly evaporated in the bright morning sunshine as I wandered across Pont Neuf to the Ile de la Cite. The Seine sparkled serenely, and when I walked across the square in front of the cathedral, still fairly deserted this early in the morning, the whole city seemed too beautiful to be true.

A little while later - after some serious posing in a street cafe - I met Vicky, and she whisked me off on a whistlestop tour of some of her favourite parts of Paris. About a year ago Vicky transferred to Hilton Paris to fulfill her childhood dream of oneday living here, which I really admire her for. She certainly loves the city, and she took me to some cool little places. We started with a quick look round Shakespeare and Co., an old english-language bookshop, with dogeared classics spilling out of every available bit of space in the strange old building, then wandered around a weird little church that is supposed to be the oldest in the city. It wasn't much to look at, but it also gets used as a live music venue which must be pretty atmospheric.

We had an amazing, bellybusting three course lunch at a funky cafe in Montmartre, then washed it down with a coffee in the cafe that was used in the film Amelie. I sheepishly took a couple of photos in there but felt a bit self conscious - in Britain this place would have completely sold out on its links with a successful film, but that's not the Parisien way; the only nod to the film is a poster on one of the back walls. I got the impression that snapping away in there was decidedly unchic.

We caught a metro across town to Trocadero, and walked under the eiffel Tower to the classier of the world's two Paris Hiltons. Vicky had cleared it for the two of us to have a drink in the hotel's swanky executive lounge on the top floor, and sipping at my drink in the shadow of the Eiffel Tower, I knew it might be a little hard readjusting the the glamour of my dormitary that night.

After saying my goodbyes, I made my way back across town on the Metro feeling so cheerful about the weeks of travel lying ahead of me that I even tolerated the guy playing My Way on his electric accordian right behind my head. Ah Paris...