Holy Hotel Room, Batman!

It is about 10:30 PM here, and I am in bed. It is quite possible the earliest I have gone to bed in a looooong time. I am exhausted. Wednesday night at home I didn’t sleep because the dog knew I was leaving, and wouldn’t let me sleep, and me wouldn’t let me sleep on the plane either. Needless to say, Paris is incredible.
Two nights ago I decided to be adventurous and take the train from the airport (9 euros) versus taking a door-to-door shuttle to the hotel (20e plus baggage fees). Without a hitch, I got on the RER which is basically the French version of the Long Island Railroad. I took the train to the Gare du Nord, which was supposed to be a 5-minute walk to the hotel. I promptly squeeze myself through the ticket booths with luggage, and walk the wrong direction about three blocks in the rain.
Mental picture: American kid wearing a polo, denim and Union College baseball cap. Hauling a foot-locker sized suitcase, a 5600 cubic inch hiking pack, rolling carry-on and school back-pack. It could not have been more obvious that I was a tourist. In the meantime I developed a system for asking directions. Nod and smile when they were telling me where to go, and then piecing together what they said after the fact.
I turned myself back around and got to the hotel. The lobby was a quaint little hotel lobby and I was totally optimistic about the rooms. The not-so-tolerant innkeeper, then told us only one at a time in the elevator…uhhh what? I barely squeezed myself into this phone-booth sized elevator (no joke), and shook my way up to le premier étage (second floor).
Three people and our luggage were far from comfortable in a room that was about the size of a big closet. This “triple room” had a double bed and a twin bed right next to each other, and that was it. We had a TV, but it didn’t work. We had a bathroom, but it only had a tub and a hose to shower with. The three of us cleaned up and went and found lunch.
By 2 PM we had our first experience with le Metro which is very, very easy, except for the doors that don’t open unless you press the button. I ticked a bunch of locals off when I couldn’t figure out why the doors wouldn’t open, even when it said “appuyez ici”. Stupid American. We met up with some of the U-Crew at the Eiffel Tower, and the few of us who flew in that morning were totally exhausted. Regardless, someone still convinced me to take the stairs to the top of the tower and see Paris. I split from my roommates for a while. It was a game of chance to meet them at the hotel since we don’t have cell phones (I don’t know how we survived without them). The climb was cool and I got a couple great pictures from the top of tower. It was still rainy and hazy though. After the tower we went and grabbed some après-midi café, after which I promptly fell asleep at the table, while they were all figuring out their evening plans. I soloed the Metros back to the hotel (still very easy), grabbed les steak-frites and a beer somewhere, and met up with the girls for a walk around the 10eme arrondissement. That is the district the hotel is in. And now, it is bed-time.