Forget Paris

This city sucks! We finally arrived at about 10pm on Bastille Day because we just kept getting delayed everywhere we went. Our group (4 girls, one gay guy) decided to go out to the Eiffel Tower to see the festivities and left the hostel around 11. After a ridiculously long ride on the Metro with one confusing transfer, the trains shut down at midnight, spitting us out 2 stops before where we wanted to go. We got out of the subway and started walking towards the Eiffel Tower.

Our first clue to turn around and go home should have been when everyone was walking away from the tower as we were walking towards it. We grabbed a beer and some french fries and checked out the scene. It was nothing but people working on a 12-hour drunk, so we decided to finish our fries and grab a taxi. The taxi stand near us was full of people and no taxis were coming, so we decided to walk a little away from the crowds to catch a taxi there.

As we were walking away, 2 guys tried to talk to us and wouldn't leave us alone. After telling them we were all gay and Brett trying to hit on them, it still took us pretty much forcefully pushing them away to get them to leave. We walked on until we found a promising looking square. No taxis were stopping, so we spotted some cops and told them where we were headed. They sent us to a taxi stand a few blocks away after laughing at how far we were from 'home'. At that taxi stand, some locals laughed at us and told us we'd never get a taxi there.

Okay, forget it, we'll just start walking and see if we can catch a taxi as we go. We continued walking for about an hour, then stopped into a Best Western to see if they would call a taxi for us. Nope. It's about 2am at this point. We stopped into a bar and even bought a beer to see if they would call a taxi for us. After the waitress stole the change we dropped, she said no, they don't have a phone. Bitch.

We walked on along the shore of the Seine, waving at every taxi that passed, with cars full of locals whistling and laughing at us. We stopped once more at a small cafe where someone bought a sandwich and the waiter said he would call a taxi for us. The manager asked where we were from, and when told USA, he laughed and said he would not call a taxi for us. Bastard.

So as it's nearing 4:30, we are starting to get somewhat close to our hostel. Had a taxi picked us up when we first started looking, we would have been at home and in bed by this point, rather than having the worst experience yet.

We were crossing the street and Brett was approached by a shirtless guy asking him something in French. Brett replied in French that he speaks English, and the guy pointed to a knife wound (looked pink, more like a scrape or a scar) in his side and was accusing Brett of having stabbed him. Brett tried to shrug him off and keep walking, but his friend came up and they grabbed him. Two more guys came into the fray and one punched Brett in the jaw. We finally figured out what was going on, and began screaming No! at the guys and trying to keep them away from Brett. I was in there pulling guys off as they were kicking Brett, trying to keep them from pushing him over the wall onto the concrete walkway next to the Seine 20 feet below. The guys were not that big, but they were all strung out on something and fueled by alcohol, drugs, and testosterone. There was one guy that was probably about 5'7" and 130lbs, and I had him by his throat. If some locals hadn't appeared, I would have probably either gotten really hurt or sent to jail.

Thankfully, there were some locals around that saw what was going on... one guy getting the crap beat out of him, only defending himself and not swinging back, with 4 girls pulling guys off of him and screaming. They came up and somehow got all of the guys away long enough for us to take off running.

We made it back to the hostel at almost 5am on a total adrenaline high. I showered and went to bed, but Brett and one of the other girls were so freaked out that they stayed up until this afternoon drinking wine, popping anxiety meds, and smoking cigarettes in the bathroom. Real good way to deal with all of that.

So... Paris sucks. I'm ready for Oxford and Wales. And Texas most of all.