Due to some various reasons, the assignments were delayed for about ten days, so we left Paris later than we expected. Fashion week coinsided with this and our hotel couldn't extend our reservation as they were completely booked up. We were moved to their sister hotel, the Adagio- Eiffel Tower, and we couldn't have been more pleased!
For one, our new apartment was meant for four guests and we had it all to ourselves. Up on the 26th floor, we had incredible panoramic views of the city and of the French Statue of Liberty. Unfortunately though, it meant about a thirty minute commute for Brian, and about twenty minutes away from the other hotel. It seemed like a nce, modern hotel and I encourage you to look it up.
On the second day we were there, we had a true 'near' death experience. The day started normally and we joined a family on the ground floor to head up to our apartment. The family was French and it was Dad with two sons, about 14 and 11. They were headed to the 25th floor and we nodded at each other when we got in. These elevators are meant to hold 19 people and are quite grand. We continued our seperate conversations as the elevator headed up. We reached about the 17th floor when suddenly, the elevator shook and the lights flickered.
Brian grinned at me and said "at least we have food with us!"
The father started approaching the wall of buttons to hit the operator switch, when suddenly, the car dropped out from beneath us! We all gasped and clung to the rails as the car free fell eight stories, the floor numbers rushing in a count down, then it caught itself. The lights flickered again and it began to climb. It felt like the Tower of Terror ride at Disney Land, except this was not fun and truly frightening. The oldest son tried to open the doors at the next approaching level, except the doors wouldn't open and it kept climbing.
Again, it free fell. I dropped my water bottle and the youngest son wailed. We all had crouched down as it fell, and my mind raced about if you're supposed to lay down or what when accidents like this happened. It stopped suddenly, and we all started talking at once, the family switching to English. We could hear the cables groaning and the car shuddered. Brian and the father kept urging the son to hit the next floor button so we could get off this elevator of death, but it had jammed or something, and wouldn't open the doors.
Again, the car began its slow ascent of horror. For the third time, it free fell, though this time it was only a few stories before it caught. I can hardly began to describe the panic we felt as we watched those floor numbers fly down and knew we could do nothing to control it. I have never been in a free falling elevator before and I would wish it on noone. In those fleeting moments, I honestly thought "this is it, it doesn't matter if I'm laying down or standing. I am going to die." Finally, it rose and the doors let us off at floor 23.
A man was waiting for the elevator and we shouted (seriously, it was like a movie chorus) "NO!" and rushed out. We shakily explained it was broken and accompanied the family to the stairs as we spoke about our shared participation. I don't know if you've ever been in a scary situation, but anyone you share it with immediately becomes your friend after. We both agreed to call the desk as soon as we arrived.
My legs were genuinely weak and my hands were shaking as I dialed the desk. I explained what happened and the man apologized and said he'd get a technician on it right away. My voice was trembling and higher pitched than usual and I repeated what happened. He agreed he understood and tried to hang up. I was slightly hysterical and repeated a third time, insisting that he comprehended the situation of death and which of the four elevators it was.
It was awful and unnerving and for three days after, we took the stairs to the 26th floor everytime.
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