Paris.

planes

I don't think it's the part of "falling to your death" that scares me when travelling on a plane; more like the over crowds of people squished to one chair, and the queuing up for the one cubicle the plane has to offer. The good part of flying is looking down at the huge fluffy clouds covering up the land underneath. What's even better? I'm going to Paris, not to Disneyland, not with my parents like i did when i was 10. Actually exploring every venue and corner in Paris. Freedom. Away from my toxic family that don't even know i'm here. Why not take a friend with me to stay safe? It's stupid i'm travelling alone I know; but I live a social life and it's always best if I break away from it sometimes. And yes, I don't speak the whole French dictionary, but i can pass by the general conversations needed. It's a challenge for me anyway, and if i don't do something on my own once in a while, what's the point? As the flight attendant assured the plane had landed safely, I took out my headphones and grabbed my hand luggage. I took a step out of the plane and into the beautiful city of France. It  amazed me how long it had been since I last visited; my 24 year old self began to feel a little less young than I really was. It was windy as cold, much like England; my blonde locks were flying about everywhere until I reached the airport where crowds of people collected their luggage.
I called for a taxi as I stood shivering in the autumn wind. I couldn't quite help look around at the beauty this place had to offer; yes, Paris wasn't exactly a clean city, and yes there certainly were rough areas wherever i looked. Somehow, my memories began to come back from over 14 years ago; the long stretch of road me and my family drove down, the dazzling lights that were still shining as bright as ever. How could I forget, the tall metal construction that stood up boldly, the Eiffel Tower. I smiled and sighed to myself; I could tell my weird facial expressions creeped out the taxi driver. "C'est votre hôtel", the driver said whilst grunting in a unpleasant manner. "Merci, au revoir!" I shouted as I closed the car door, but was thanked with a cloud of diesel petrol from the Ford focus back in my face. How could I blame him? After all, I was practically reenacting a chimp in the back of the taxi.
As I held my luggage whilst looking up to the building of the hotel, I noticed how close I was to the Tower; a last, I could wake up to the view of such a iconic piece of architecture. I checked In at my hotel and was pleasantly surprised at the service; given my keys whilst a friendly staff member took up my luggage. I opened the door, and...

I stood in confusion as I gazed amongst the scattered floor of dirty clothing and messy bed sheets. I walked a little further in to see if anyone was there in the room, but all the noise was a tap dripping from the sink and the radio kept on low volume. "This must have been a mistake..." I thought to myself as I walked backwards to the door, still stunned at my sight. As i turned around, I gasped at shock of seeing a tall man standing at my door frame; he was around 6 foot 3, dark curls covering part of his forehead, wore nothing but a thin white tee, ripped jeans and a black leather jacket. "You're not a crazy fan who's broke into my hotel room are you?" He jokingly said whilst chuckling a little. "Uhhhh no sir, sorry I was given the wrong hotel keys it seems. I'll go get some help now, I'm sorry again, I..." "No need to be so sorry, I mean if you like this room, you are more than welcome to have it!", the man exclaimed. It was something about his witty manner that I couldn't quite feel awkward by. I laughed and walked away to the elevator. That grin wouldn't come off of my face no matter how serious I tried to be. Maybe I will have someone with me in the big city, but all I can hope now is that they have the right set of keys for me!