Brian Samuel, history sophomore, is studying abroad this semester in France. This excerpt from his travel journal details a memorable journey from London to catch a flight in Paris—all during the protest against the G-20 Summit in early April.

Recently, I’ve been on holiday from France. I spent three weeks just to backpack with what is left of my budget to try to see some cool stuff. A lot of my buddies split ways for the first two weeks, but had planned to meet up for an island hopping trip through the Greek Isles—Mykonos, Paros, Santorini and a couple of others.

When I left Paris, I took the Eurostar line underneath the English Channel to London to try and catch the G-20 protests. If you haven’t been able to check it out online, it’s been crazy in Western Europe since I’ve been here. To watch it online doesn’t do it justice. It was a mind-blowing experience.

So, I leave my hostel in Piccadilly Circus at 5:30 a.m. to catch my Eurostar at 6 a.m. from King’s Cross. I made it there all right, but as I was in line to board, they announced that it would be delayed for a technological malfunction—they held it back once, and then twice for an unrelated service issue.

By that time, I’m sitting under the English Channel—delayed again—and I’m getting really nervous about making my flight at 2:10 p.m. from Paris to Athens.

I talked to the manager on the train to settle the issue and we’re going to get my ticket stamped so I can make it on my flight. But when I get to Gare de Nord no one knows what I’m talking about, no one knows what manager I spoke to, and no one even speaks English.

So with no more evidence then my ticket stub I go to bat, spending half an hour working out some kind of compromise with the lady at the ticket booth. It was like a French exam: it was so hard.

So as I head to catch a train to Charles de Gaulle. I’m panicking, and it gets worse, there are no lines open.

Everyone is on protest for the G-20 summit, and at this point I am starting to hate myself for the lack of organization I’ve been kind of cruising on.

There is nothing I can do. I got this stamp to excuse me for being late, but I can’t make it there. I know I have a nonrefundable flight and a cruise to catch, so I just bite the bullet, and pull out what I have in Euros and run out of the station to catch a taxi, knowing I probably can’t make it in time.

I’m trying to find a cab, but the train station is placing taxis in a line away from me. And I’m telling you, I don’t think I could have even gotten into taxi by the time this flight leaves.

So as I’m standing in line trying to formulate a plan b, I see a couple of guys with the little Parisian motorcycles sitting out on the curb. They were just hustling people in line and trying to make some cash.

So I walk on over, and within 10 minutes, I’m strapped to the backseat, my pack is duct taped to the fender and we’re cutting through cars on the interstate rolling towards Charles de Gaulle.

Honestly I think I made it on my flight with enough time to pass security, plead out my situation to the women at the desk, and use the bathroom before they were boarding. It was insane.

Brian Samuel can be reached at [email protected].