Paris, day one. Lockdown!

How do you get to France? Here's how I did it.

• Florida > Georgia > Seattle > New York > London > Paris

Needless to say, I was quite tired when we finally arrived in our swanky little apartment in Paris. After the apartment manager gave us a tour of the place, I curled up in the bed to catch a quick nap.

Chloe mentioned that she was going to walk over to Candice's place, and so I figured I'd get a little shut-eye as they caught up. I heard them come back a while later and then ... nothing. At some point, hours later, I am awakened from my slumber by an incessant knocking and pounding noise.

Someone is trying to get in to the apartment. I'm still groggy and confused but I wander over to the front door to see what the hap is. It's Eli, one of the people who manages the place. It takes me a few minutes to understand that somehow the locks are broken from the outside and he's been pounding on the door for fifteen (!) minutes to see if I can let me in. After a few more minutes of groggy back and forth, I come to realize that it's not that the locks are broken from the outside, but that they are broken.

Period.

I'm locked in. Eli and I carry on a brief conversation. He assures me that 'someone is coming' and he takes off. I doze for a while. The girls come back. They chat with me. I look at them through the peephole. Later on, the apartment manager returns and directs me to a toolbox buried deep in the apartment.

I use a screwdriver to pry the broken lock open, and ... freedom! A visit from the locksmith and $1200 Euros later, functionality is restored with the installation of a new lock. I go back to sleep.

I'm writing this around 1pm on Monday. It occurs to me that I've slept for 20 of the past 23 hours. I think I'm all caught up! However, I have not yet left the apartment.

Chloe thinks I've developed agoraphobia.