April 12, 1998
Andy and I walked from our hotel to the Eiffel Tower and decided we would climb it together before leaving Paris. Since Andy was averse to elevators (claustrophobia) we climbed only as high as we were allowed to climb.
It was very cold that afternoon. All the while that we were in line I kept thinking of ear muffs and warm gloves. We waited in that line for 1.5 hours waiting our turn to climb. Just 15 minutes before getting to the entrance a couple with a small child cut in line in front of us. We were completely stunned by this and since we couldn't tell what language they spoke didn't really know how to address it. It was really interesting how we talked about it later that evening from the hotel.
After climbing the tower, we sort of just wandered around the city. We didn't do a lot. It was cold and we were both tired. I was feeling depressed about the trip coming so close to an end. I was growing fond of Andy and didn't want to leave him and yet, I was also looking forward to just being home. Traveling does that to you after a while.
April 13, 1998
Andy and I had our last breakfast together in France this morning. We loaded up the car, closed out our bill and headed for Calais to catch the ferry to Dover.
The weather in Paris this morning was beautiful. The sun shone brightly and it was a sight I didn't see a lot as we seemed to find cloudes wherever we went. Then, about 45 minutes outside of Paris, we hit a snowstorm. Finally, we arrived in Calais and caught the ferry.
On the ferry we met a really nice couple. The conversation was interesting enough and it made the ride go by quickly. I think they were amused by our story. Like most English they seemed to want to know from what "class" Andy came. Once on shore, we immediately pulled into a petrol station for fuel. The odometer on Andy's car read 150300. We went 100 miles over our budget. Not bad.
Since we ran out of money, we had to stay the night at his father's house; I think it was just outside of London. I was able to meet his father, stepmother and adorable little half-sister. I liked all of them.
His father booted the girl out of her room for the night and let Andy and I share a blow up matter, I believe. I can't recall if it was a blow up or not but it was one mattress. Andy was really perplexed that his father would do this because as he said "what if we hadn't gotten along?". I guess he thought his father was being rather presumptuous. It was a pretty big mattress, so if needed, Andy and I could find our own space.
I was so tired, I fell asleep right away. I was so afraid to allow myself to feel any closer to Andy than I already felt. I didn't know how to even express what I was feeling and didn't know if Andy wanted to hear it, especially in his father's house.
I regretted that this was our last day together. I woke up in the night to find Andy turned on his side (away from me and toward a light), he was reading. I can still see his back. I didn't touch him, I didn't want him to know I was awake, I wish I could turn back the clock.