After much turmoil and stress I was finally safely on the eurostar to Paris. Having nearly missed my train at St Pancras at 5:00 in the morning, I was obviously eagerly awaiting my dash across Paris to get my connecting train to Grenoble, which conveniently left me with 25 minutes in which to do so with a metro journey (of approx 15 minutes) in between. To many this may seem like a thrilling challenge, yet for me it was merely a pain in the ar** (excuse my French, ha). I knew many minutes would be wasted with me fumbling for my change at the metro ticket office, whilst breaking out in a sweat at the sight of a new un-known machine and not knowing what buttons to press. I had planned to jump on the nearest Parisian with a pathetic “Ou est??” whilst jabbing my finger at my metro map. Anyway, all worked out well due to the fact that the eurostar arrived in Paris late anyway, so I ended up having to wait for the next train. With an hour and a half to kill, what would I do? Eat a Bolognese crepe I say!!!
 
Indeed after purchasing my metro ticket, with no bumbling antics I may add, I only had about 3 euros left so I knew my lunch was more than likely going to end up being a croissant (it was technically breakfast time after all). I attempted to change money in a bank, but that did prove to be a bit too much of a task in a foreign country and stuck to my pocketful of centimes and my creative mind. I found a little hole in the wall with a welcoming sign which read 'Creperie', super, and decided to go for the best I could afford - the ominously named 'crepe mixte'. Sadly for me no ham was available and the only other meat option was bolognese. Now, I know in England I would never EVER trust bolognese from a tiny slot in the wall (in what I can only guess was the French alternative to a dirty kebab shop), but time was not on my side by this point and the daring side of me was revelling in the risk element.....

Well guess what? I won! This was truly an amazing treat. I like to wait for the perfect moment to indulge, so I packed the warm parcel into my bag and marched off to the station to find the perfect spot to eat my little beauty of a snack. After stopping and starting in various spots on the platform, avoiding a gang of cruel pigeons and all the militant commuters, I found a little corner where I could feast in peace. Perhaps it was my hungry state, the comfort of a mound of warm, tomatoey meat sauce, nutty parmesan and the hot crispy crepe itself, but it truly was a blissful moment. In my awe I completely forgot to take a picture, but I have vowed to make it at home and I will make it even better!