Breakfast was continental of course, so I set off to do the tourist bit, dreaming of a good old British fry-up. I should have been grateful, as on my budget that meal was to seem like a relative pig-out. I then headed back to Paris. The city of romance, and I was going to travel there on my own. I suppose that it was no worse than going with two blokes, but it was a sad, lonely traveller who got off the train at the Gar du Nord. Little did I know at the time, but three years later, I would get engaged to my future wife in Paris. When trying to navigate the Paris underground - or New York's for that matter - you realise how elegant the London tube map is. Trying to fathom
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