I Still Didn’t Want To Sleep Anyway. (Airbnb No. 1 cont.)

Having survived my first week on the new job, I found myself with a whole glorious two days of freedom stretching out in front of me, to spend at my leisure in Paris.

I’d like to say I got up bright and early Saturday morning to profit from as much of the day as possible – but moving country is exhausting and as it is, I didn’t actually get out ‘til some time around midday. Oops. Not that I achieved the blissfully long and unbroken sleep I had been anticipating. You know how I said there was no WiFi in Airbnb No. 1? Well, at 6:50 am on Saturday morning, there was a hammering on the apartment door and an engineer from SFR came bounding in, indecently chirpy for that hour on a weekend.

Fortunately, it wasn’t my apartment, so it wasn’t my problem – I could just turn over and go back to sleep for another couple of hours. Right?

Wrong.

The flipping WiFi router was located in the living room, aka my bedroom for the week. Of course. So instead of turning over and going back to sleep, I had to scramble out of bed, bleary-eyed and scarecrow-haired, and go sit shivering in the kitchen in my pyjamas for an hour. Good of the host to get the promised WiFi sorted out on the last day of my stay. Not.

Suffice to say, I was not a happy anglaise.

Anyway, I did eventually get to crawl back under the covers (wide awake by now) for a bit and when I reemerged, the weekend was vastly improved from there on. Thank goodness.

Tell you all about it in my next post!