Day three and the morning started off well. Dropped our bags with left luggage at the hotel and ventured into the parks, hitting up Crushes Coaster and Tower of Terror after a breakfast Mickey Waffle — not that there was anything breakfast-y about the waffle, other than the time of day.
I had been under the impression that the Disneyland Railroad was closed, no matter when I checked the app, it kept telling me it was, which made the fact that I kept seeing it going around the park particularly frustrating.
Doing some further research, I found that it was in fact open most of the day, closing at 5pm. So, being as the plan was to go into Paris for the day, I wanted to get a loop of railway done before we went. So, when we were done in Studios, we headed over to the main park with the sole purpose of getting railed. Unfortunately, while in the queue, the ride went down. We could have waited, but with no idea what was wrong with it or how long it’d be down for, we jumped the barrier and departed Disney, heading for Bussy-St-Georges and our new hotel.
Check-in at the new hotel went well, our room was ready, we could drop off our bags. Great. Got up to the room and found that the twin room I’d booked was arranged as a double, so back down to reception we went to ask for that to be rectified. Asked if we were going out, we were assured it’d be sorted by the time we got back (and it was).
We had talked before we left Scotland about what we wanted to do in Paris. I’d done pretty much everything before, so really it was reliant on what Connor might want to do. The only thing that we’d really both committed to was the Catacombs, which wasn’t going to be today. In my head, I figured we could do a sight-seeing tour today, take in the big things, and then do the Eiffel Tower, Catacombs, etc on Thursday. Maybe even squeeze something in on Friday morning, if needs-be.
The RER line from Bussy took us right to the Arc De Triomphe – I always enjoy venturing out from underground and being faced by a big famous landmark (my first impression of London proper was Big Ben at Westminster Tube) and having seen the big Arch, it was decided we’d go up it and that I’d try not to die.
It was this decision that lulled us (perhaps especially me) into a false sense of security. We queued up, we bought a ticket, we went up. We saw Paris from up high. We came down again.
You know? How tourist attractions generally work. Go, get ticket, experience thing, leave. Lovely.
Going with the theme of seeing everything, we walked from Archie boi down to The Louvre and it was here that things started to fall apart. We stopped for something to eat, in the food court area of the shopping centre attached to the museum, which took approximately 1000 years to arrive and once we were done, figured ‘We’re here, we may as well go in.’
April is a notoriously busy time in Paris any way, couple that with the fact that it was slap in the middle of the Easter holidays, I expected crowds, I expected things to be busy. While finishing up our food, I checked online to see how much tickets were going to be and if I could buy them online (save queuing in the museum itself).
As it turned out, I couldn’t buy them in the museum even if I wanted to, as all tickets were now to be pre-booked/time-stamped. Not to worry, just buy one online, right? – If not for today, tomorrow?
Wrong.
There were no tickets for the Louvre available until the following week.
Mona Lisa’s shite anyway.
Not wanting to be disappointed again, and doubling down somewhat on my ‘let’s at least see all the things’ mentality, from the Louvre, we went to Trocadero. Which, from past experience, gives great views across to the Eiffel Tower. At the moment though? Covered in construction walls, which block pretty much every vantage point.
Carrying on, we walked down toward the tower and jumped on the RER again, this time aiming for Notre Dam – this was one place I knew wouldn’t be as I’d known it before, given the fire damage and consequent repair work needed, so snapped a couple pictures and then crossed the river and started to look for something to eat.
While on the search, I checked my phone and saw I had a message from my Uncle and while I have nothing against the man, we’re not in regular communication. So, when I saw a missed call and a text from him asking – ‘Martin, can you give me a call when you can’, my heart sank.
Panic set in. Something had happened to my Mum. She was hurt… Or worse. How do I get back to the UK? I could rent a car and drive, that’d get me on my way the quickest, probably. There’d probably be flights, but could I afford it? Maybe train to London and a flight? Or drive from there? My bag was at the hotel still, but I could go via the hotel and get to the airport from Marne-la-Vallée. Was I ready to face whatever would be waiting for me when I did get back though?
All of this. All the panic. All in the approximately four minutes it took from reading the message to being on the phone with him.
Something serious had happened. Someone was ill and in a dangerous situation. That someone wasn’t my Mum… When he said the name of the person, a wave of relief swept over me, as I still tried to take in all the important information he was telling me.
The reason he had tried to call me (and messaged me) was that he’d already tried my Mum and couldn’t get a hold of her, so figured if I happened to be going out to her, I could just tell her in person. When I told him I was in Paris. He had had no idea.
After coming off the phone to him, we found an ice cream place and got a milkshake. My mind was still racing though. Everything was fine, but it was playing the ‘what if?’ game.
The day already hadn’t gone as planned or expected, we had a whole other day of Paris that we were meant to fill and if the Louvre was anything to go by, weren’t going to be able to do anything. My mood was now super low, due to the ‘what if?’ game my mind was now playing and I wasn’t having a good time.
Our Disney tickets ran out at park close, so we had one final night of Disney to enjoy. We got on the RER back to the hotel and then headed to the park, arriving just as the sun was setting. We rode rides. Ate waffles. Watched the drone show again.
Back at the hotel in Bussy, I started looking up options. Tickets for the Eiffel Tower weren’t available online, but there was possibility of buying on site. I started looking at Asterix Parc as a legitimate option, but although we could possibly have bought tickets at the gate, there was no guarantee and it’s pretty far out of the way for there not to be a guarantee of that.
Despite the lack of sleep in general this trip, I lay in bed, going over the what if scenario(s) in my head for a long time.
Not ideal.