20:00 Gare de l’est was my entry point on a warm Saturday evening in June. It was not about where I had been, (Bazancourt) but where I was going and that was to The Peoples Hostel in a suburb of Paris called Belleville.
I headed down to the ground floor where the 24/7 reception, lounge and bar with a Saturday night DJ was starting to crowd as the DJ pulled in the dancers I claimed my complimentary and perched on a bar stool wondering where my night would take me sipping on my coke.
The hostel I had found the night before online for 55 Euro was modern. My dorm was tight for space, had 6 bunk beds, all with privacy curtains, a locker, and a small balcony. Perfect evening for applying makeup al fresco, the city of Paris reflected in my compact. The three American girls all in their twenties invited me along with them but I had my own ideas.
22:00 After a quick refresh I climbed the 1 flight of stairs from my dorm on the 5th floor to the rooftop. The sun had set but it left the sky a burnt pink. The navy blue backdrop was a perfect contrast to Le Tour Effel that was brightly lit and sparkling in the dusk.
00:00 Smoking is prevalent in Paris, it seems every one chuffs so if you want to meet people head to the smoking area. That’s where I met Guga, my new chaperone for the evening, he is 25 and from Bahia, Brazil, illegal in France and looking for a first. My kind of bloke.
He suggests Chatlet, the Concert Square of Paris, and we find ourselves in an Irish bar with Cannonier vs Imavov: UFC Fighters silenced violence in background. I obliged for an hour and we danced to Brazillian funk music in a Celtic Corner of Paris, before mooching off to find an alternative.
02:00 With no particular place to go we walked the wide streets taking snaps Guga faithfully pointing out attractions I ought to visit the following day.
59 Rivoli is a squart or a squat for artists. This late at night it was just a huge building cloaked in butterflies. After my admission to Guga that I tried and failed to secure a ticket to The Moulin Rouge he took a look at his phone, asked a few French questions to strangers and we were on a bus N14 to The Moulin Rouge itself.
04:00 After 2 hours of solid dancing inside La Machine du Moulin Rouge, a discotheque perched next to the theatre, I was in enamour and knackered the reggaetón had surprised me since I was looking for monotonous techno beat instead I found my wine and grind. Guga has served me well but then I met Alexis who in his own words was the Albert Einsten of Monmarte Paris and demanded I follow him to the “more beautiful Paris”. Encore en fois.
06:00 48.886742155642025, 2.343168669507102 my GPS coordinates. It was most glorious to see the sun come up over Paris but my throbbing feet had me checking Uber while Alexis tried his upmost to make me stay. After the hostel agreed to let me check out at midday, i bathed my feet and my Head hits pillow.
08:00 Asleep
12:00 Checked out and ate brunch with Vivian my chinese pengyou i had met the night before during check in when I clocked she was struggling with the loud music and Tom’s French accent. See mum my Mandarin is not such a pointless hobby after all. She was on her way to La Louvre so I tagged along and we happily made our way, even though I could not get a tickets I stood outside and admired, besides I had to head to the airport in a few hours.
14:00 I walked to a boulangerie and, LV and the river side, and followed the music.
16:00 My final moment in Paris was an overly sincere encounter with a photographer, called, I forget.
18:00 Back to hostel to collect my luggage.
20:00 Easyjet flight back to Liverpool.
majorloveme 
Gorgeous outfits!
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