Bonjour, PARIS!

It took us 1 1/2 hours from P's town to drive to Luxembourg. From there, we took the 8:02 AM train (93.20 euros RT/pp) to Paris. By 11:40 AM, we were pulling in Gare de l'Est Station. It was the 1st day of Summer - the day Paris was celebrating its annual "Fete de la Musique". We were lucky that P's brother-in-law (E, who's French) came with us since he had to attend to some business in the city. We had the perfect guide! A less-than-5-minute cab ride to the hotel with an old grouch for a driver cost us 10 euros. It registered 8 on the meter, but E explained that it is customary for cab drivers to count the number of a customers' luggage/suitcase, and charge them an extra 1 euro per bag. That fact that he won't even lift his gnarly finger to help you carry your stuff in or out of the trunk didn't matter. Apparently, it did to us. It was going to be our first and last cab ride.

E dropped us off at the hotel and then we made plans to meet up for early dinner/ drinks. The good news was that we loved the hotel location: Villiers. The alley leading to the hotel was closed off to vehicles. Instead, it was occupied with numerous merchants selling various products, fresh produce, and wares.
We had easy access to roasted meats, fruits, vegetables, souvenirs...

...gelato, food vendors, assorted cheeses...
P just couldn't resist the Camembert. Before the lady wrapped it up, I noticed that she took the top of the container off, and pressed her pointer finger lightly in the middle of the cheese. P explained that the French take pride in the quality of their cheese products, and the woman was just making sure that she was giving us a fresh batch. I didn't want anyone poking at my food but I tried to block out nagging thoughts of "hygiene issues". Just go with the flow. To stress his point, he attempted to expound further: "Just like when you buy dried fish. You should be able to return or exchange it if you think its not stinky enough". Oh-kayyy...
There were restaurants in every corner, and our grumbling stomachs loudly reminded us that we haven't eaten lunch. Since we arrived early (an hour before the hotels' "Check-In Time"), we dropped our bags off in the lobby and went out in search of food.
I wanted a typical French meal - so we skipped the Pizza and Burger joints and headed straight to a Brasserie. I had a Croute (pie) filled with ham and cheese, veggies on the side. P didn't need a menu. He wanted his usual: Steak. Cooked medium. No onions. Yes to pommes frites. Bearnaise sauce on the side. A bottle of Julienas 2004 completed our meal.

We went back to the hotel and was met with some bad news - the hotel room and the hotel service SUCKED. Big time. The hotel had touted itself as a "3-star hotel with internet access" so P had booked online thinking he made a pretty good deal. Their web site even posted some fairly good photos of their rooms. Well, the minute we came in, the "internet access" that they had described was in the form of a lone computer that sat on a table in one corner of the lobby. A large, white sheet of paper with the words "Out of Order" was taped in front of it. The sign remained stuck there throughout the whole duration of our stay. The room? Just the perfect size - if you're a child. Or a midget. (Thank goodness we left S with her Oma and Opa). The bed occupied the whole room. It was so tight that one of us had to actually hop on the bed so the other one can have a narrow space to pass through. The bed cover was all frayed and raggedy - their web site photos must have been more than 10 years old!! We got so scared of bed mites that we dumped the spread on a chair as soon as we came in. The room safe? Broken! Airconditioning? Fuhggetabouit! I bet a $50-dollar/night room at Day's Inn Hotel would have better accommodations. We didn't want to shell out a lot of money for a room that we'd use only for showers and sleeping - but for 150 euros/night, you'd think we'd get at least a freaking miniature fan!

First order of the day: Have the safe fixed.
A young man in white bell-hop uniform came up shortly after we called the reception desk.
"The safe is broken. Can you fix it?"
After fiddling with the buttons: "It needs new batteries".
Ah, a simple problem. "Great. So, change the batteries then".
"Hmmm... I don't know how to do that. That's not my job".
"So why are you here for?"
"Well, I was standing next to the front desk when you called, so I came up to ask you in person what you needed."
"Well, You know what? Thanks anyway." Shows him the door. "We'll just have to call front desk again."
"Hmm... I don't think anybody downstairs knows how to fix that either."
Exasperated. "So what do you suggest we should do?"
"Well, you know... if it was me, I'll just have to make the most out of the situation."

In short - Tough Luck. Deal with it, Suckers!!

Frustrated, P and I decided to pay the hotel manager a brief visit. Basically, he chimed the same song, different tune:
"The Technician will take a look at your safe as soon as he comes in later today. Your room number please?".
I guess he must have died on his way to work, for the safe remained a broken shell up till the day we checked out - 3 days later.

P's sister, (who used to work as a Hotel Manager in Paris) later explained that since the hot weather doesn't last long during Summertime, most hotels do not have any airconditioning. She also sadly noted that the management of some affordable hotels are confident that they will always be fully booked with tourists - so "Providing Good Quality of Service" is not on the top of their priority list. ( I wonder if its even on the list at all).