While visiting family in England (Westcliff-on-Sea) a few years ago, I decided to look into a brief solo excursion to
Disneyland Paris. I booked tickets on the EuroStar, and
somehow found my way on the local underground Victoria Station (end of the line) to King's Cross. There was track work being done on that line, so I had to switch at the Liverpool Station. Granted I have ZERO idea what the heck I was doing, and being a street-savvy New Yorker, I refused to ask directions from the locals. So I just followed along and somehow found my way there. I expected the EuroStar to be a straight shot, but I remember having to switch somewhere in France. And I nearly missed my gate, which closed at some random time. Thought I would be able to explore the station for a bit, but when I went over to speak to one of the agents, she told me to get inside and swung a small gate open for me.
Anyway, before I left Westcliff-on-Sea, I booked myself into the Hotel New York, which was annoying. I didn't fly from JFK to Heathrow and then travel by train to France to stay in a New York hotel, but it was supposedly the only one with vacancy. Which was nonsense because the park was a ghost town. They also force you to buy three days of tickets with a hotel, so I had to stay there longer than I wanted. Not enough to do there for three days.
When I tell you ZERO planning went into this trip... I basically sat down at their computer, checked out prices for EuroStar, booked the hotel and bought the park tickets online, and got dropped off at the local Victoria Station. Not a clue where I was going, no research on Disneyland Paris. Total seat-of-my-pants trip, all done solo. And since this was about eight years ago, cell technology wasn't where it is today, and I had no working phone. All communication back home in England was done through Facebook and email. The phone in my room had been set to Dutch, of all languages, and I couldn't understand the prompts to change the language. Folks at the hotel were less than helpful or friendly. Completely par for the course in France... miserable human beings that they are. Park cigarette butt holders are PACKED. Never cleaned out and man, those people smoke like fiends. Another thing I noticed about the parks is that there is no lining up for characters. Just a bunch of local rude children (and adults) pushing in front of you to get their picture. If France sank into the North Atlantic, I wouldn't miss it.