Happiness and violence on New Year in Paris

New Year in Paris was crazy. Crazy in all the possible senses.

There was four of us initially, Fiona, her friend, their boyfriend and me. It was a nice little quartet. Our plan was to head to the Eiffel Tower for the New Year. A group of loud singing Brazilians on the metro from Clichy to the Champs Elysée got us into the party spirit. And we were excited to get there before the clock struck 12.

The jardin de tuileries was packed out. A huge mass of people shouting and screaming and setting of fireworks and flares, like the stands at an Italian football match. Unfortunately there was no official countdown or fireworks, like in Edinburgh, but at 12 o'clock the tower lit up with flashing lights. We cracked open the Champagne and broke out the plastic flutes and cigars. Everyone apart from me, however, soon became aware of a sketchy looking man lurking behind us. I noticed him but didn't think anything of it, I was too happy to be drinking champagne. Suddenly, a woman in front of us lunged towards us and shouted "Non!" just as I felt a hand in my pocket. The big, creepy behind me had a try for the half bottle of whisky in my coat pocket. Fortunately he was too drunk to coordinate properly and walked away empty handed. We managed to avoid him for the rest of the night.

We followed the crowd into the Paris metro, and with a huge amount of luck managed to get on one. We got to the RER that would take us into the centre of town. By this point I was in a situation that could only be described as the second most I've needed the toilet in my life, the first being on a bus from Inverness to Dingwall after about 7 pints. The train was 6 minutes late....1 minutes late....15 minutes late... I had to go!

Flash forward half an hour, I'd been to the toilet and we'd gone from four to two. Fiona and I walked from Place de Concorde to the Champs Elysée in an effort to get the metro from there to a bar to meet some friends. Annoyingly we were directed back to Concorde, apparently the Champs Elysée was shut.

We made it in the end and got onto the train. There's was a funny atmosphere though and I soon realised it was being created by 3 or 4 guys stood two rows behind us. They were being threatening and obscene to a group of Americans in front of them (behind us). If the metro doors had shut then, it would have been a horrible train journey. However, the police heard what he was saying. The copper, with short bleach blond hair, pushed onto the busy carriage and grabbed one guy off, then an other then an other. But the last guy wouldn't budge. He held onto the metal pole and pushed the policeman away. His fingers were eventually prized from the metal and he was pushed against the wall on the platform. He lifted his hand and struck the policeman. Bad move. He was then wrestled to the ground and punched several times by the police. The metro pulled out.

The atmosphere hadn't changed come the next stop though, at Châtelet. At least ten different people were being pushed up against the wall by the police, some sort of group arrest. The metro windows gave a sort of detachment from the platform, as if you were watching it on a t.v. screen. It became more real, however, when the doors slid open and you heard the police dogs barking. We zoomed on quickly though the tunnels and the driver skipped the next few stops until we reached Bastille which is, annoyingly, about the same distant East of the bar we were aiming for than Place de Concorde is West.

We still had a half bottle of whisky to keep us on our way though, so we walked another half an hour towards Notre-Dame. We picked up pace, fearing that we would miss last entry, or the queue would be too long, or our friends would have gone to a different bar and that we had no credit to call or text.

We had to dodge a few weirdos on the street but we made it to the bar. Our luck changed here. We joined the queue and were the last 3 people allowed in the club. We didn't care if it was 17 euros for a cocktail. We made it, and we were with friends! In an unbelievable coincidence, we met also a friend from University who is studying in Paris. Out of all the bars in Paris He chose the one that we took 3 hours to reach. Oh I didn't mention that bit did I? We walked for 3 hours.

Every nightmarish metro tunnel as a light at the end I guess. Back to Edinburgh next year I reckon though.