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The stairs have faded renaissance carpets with clasps. Classy. I expect there to be no space left though, as gems like this these days are hard to find considering its only twenty Euro a night. I don't care. I've never cared too much as to whether there's space or not. Booking ahead is for those with too much money and too much fear. But there's one room left says the young guy at the desk. I ask him for my top floor key to the room with no view, and he laughs. I'm serious. Yep, just as I thought.
It has character though, the window to nowhere thing and the pay-as-you-go hot showers. Just need a row from a couple to start soon. Ah, there we go. I'm sure this is the Paris of Victor Hugo or Albert Camus. You can see the crackle in the corner of thoughts stopping and starting, though the monotony and absurdity of having to pay extra for hot water.

Excerpted 'From Here to Nowhere', Copyright 2005. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the Author.