The Escape from Hostel (III) to Lyon! 26.06.09 - 09.36

Je suis desolate por la retard blog!
Day 3 into this crusade, and already much has happened.

Let us start from the begining...
A ridiculously early wake up call at about 5am was the official start to our journey, arriving in Dover slighty dazed in order to board the ferry. Calm weather ensured a smooth and relaxing ride and we arrived in Calais unscathed and with all limbs intact.
At the bus station into Calais Ville, we encountered other interraillers and struck up a comaraderie with them.
When attempting to book tickets to Paris, SHOCK HORROR we discovered Helen had forgotten her ticket duh duh DUH. However, we still managed to book tickets on the legendary TGV (changing at Lille Flanders). After being laughed at by the French for various reasons, we soon ended up in the ghetto endz of Paris, bloody miles from the centre, where our hostel was situated, which we eventually found.

The next day, we went into Paris, with the intend to visit all the tourist shizzle, starting with the iconic Effiel Tower. Crepeing it up for breakfast, we climed all 328 steps up to the first platform, and spent a while looking at the panaramic views (which essentially looks the same pretty much). The rest of the day was followed pretty much the same fashion, walking from the Arc d'triumphe (being tricked by STRING man), down the Champ Elysee, la Lourve, and finally Notre Dame. The weather (in the words of Borat) was 'verry niiiiice'. Returning to the hostel (in what can be dubbed as the Brixton of Paris), it was then we discovered the more sinister side to our accomandation....

Bored, we took the chance to explore the hostel, intrigued by the lack of company. Forgoing the elevator, we took a route down some flights of stairs. As we approached the bottom, there were no more lights only a dark dead end and an ominous metal door. We fled.
Helen and Andy then proceeded to return to the safety of the lift, while Steph found a different staircase to take. Having been in the reception surrounded by Japanese tourists for a couple of minutes, Helen and Andy were then met by a shaken looking Steph. She took us of to the staircase she had unwittingly taken, to show us the horror she had encountered! The stairs were innocent enough to start with, but as we continued down, darkness ensued, a faint humming filling the air. At the bottom of the stairwell there was a corridor leading left ond right, lit only by a harsh red flourecent light, flickering ominously. This was accompanied by a black bolten door straight ahead of us. Again, we lost our nerve, and legged it back to the lift of safety.
When back in the "saftey" of the reception, Helen decided to explore further. She led us through the dark breakfast room, to a flourecent backroom which had the door ajar. We looked through, to discover what can only be described as a torture chamber, with one solitary chair in the centre, and a netal table. The next room, completely covered in white tiles, had nothing in but two deep freezes (for the bodies of the victims) and a heavy metal door on the other side of the room. We thought it may be our last night. Ever.

Luckily, we survived the night, the Japanese tourists had disappeared, leaving nothing but a solitary camera on the floor...

Leaving early, to avoid death, we had a sweaty journey into the Gare de Lyon where we intended to book tickets for Lyon (land of Uncle Bill). But alas, when we got there, the obviously unimpressed desk attendent foiled our plans, forcing a last minute diversion to Dijon, which she insisted didn't exist but we did it anyway.

6 hours later, we arrived in Lyon to be greeted by Uncle Bill. Due to the earlier transportation set backs, we were quite late meeting him, and didn't have time for a proper explore. So instead we headed back to the flat to dump stuff and then set off to dinner after a quick glass o' wine. On the way we had a mainly car based tour of Lyon, with the walk to the restaurant including a 10th centuary Cathedral and lots of headless statues. We then gorged on fine french cusine at 'the restaurant of bread and salad'...it was delish.

Had a good nights sleep and were up ready to hit Marsaille with a vengence.

LOVE
the Crusaders