I had previously been to gay Paris twice before my most recent visit in the summer of 2011. Once had been at the tender age of 9 for my mother’s 30thbirthday which I do not recall too much of and the second was a first year college trip to Disney land Paris with just one day spent in the city itself, where the main highlight of a cold rainy October day was stealing stupid merchandise from French gift shops. My third encounter was my most pleasant experience although at the time parts of it felt like a horror movie waiting to happen. It started at Paris Nord after a 6 hour journey from Amsterdam. Feeling egger to have a snooze me and my companion’s for the last 4 hours had to wait in a queue to
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