FUBAR. Yes, my last day in Paris was totally fucked up in every way possible. To start with, after a fun ESWC closing party, I had a huge hangover and only 4 hours of sleep before I had to wake up to leave for the airport. Well, to be completely honest, the party itself was totally shit, with 0.25 litres of beer clocking in at 5€. Needless to say, we eventually hit the road with the whole UT gang and found an Irish pub around the corner where we got a pint for 6.50. Not cheap, but not as expensive. Eventually, the whole party moved over to the pub and people were filling the place to the brim.

Eventually, we moved into a park nearby, where everyone was feeling good (except for fox, who's blood sugar had crashed). czm was given joy-rides in a little cart that was lying around, and the conversation was flowing well. At around 4, the crowd dispersed to try to get back to their hotels, and that's when I took a cab back as well.

Anyway, hangover, 2 hours till my plane leaves, and I get on the metro. I intend to change at Chatelet, but meet up with Carmac, who hasn't bought a ticket and has to queue for one for a good 10 minutes. We get on the RER, planning to get off at the last stop, but after a while of sitting around on a stationary train at the station before ours, we get told to leave the train. With 45 minutes left until our flights depart, we're in a hurry, and since the inter-terminal shuttle isn't there, we take a cab the last 3 km. Asshole for a driver though, as he charges us and the couple in the cab 10€ each - easiest 20 he ever made.

When I say my goodbyes to Carmac, I go inside and jog over to the check-in, only to get told that it closed 5 minutes ago. After trying to persuade him to cut me some fucking slack, I have to go move my flight to the next one, leaving in 3 hours. Transfer fee? 150€. I cough in disbelief, but hand over my credit card anyway, only to get told it's not working. After checking at an ATM, I come to the conclusion that my card just isn't working, and drink a 4.30€ Coke at a cafe, pondering my options. Eventually, I call my parents and get them to give the counter their credit card number - it goes through and I'm finally booked on a flight home. This after 2 hours of waiting and 150€. Swearing follows.

I get to the check-in counter, and then get told by the guy there (same guy who refused to let me in a few hours earlier...) that I have to check my bag. The bag that I had as hand baggage on the way there. More swearing. I take out and repack my backpack before grudgingly handing him the bag. Finally get on a plane, 4 hours later than planned and severely pissed off, not to mention 150€ broker.

And all of this with a throbbing headache. \o/