We entered the elevator as usual and pressed the button for the ground floor. The elevator moved half a floor, dropped a few inches then snapped to a rough halt.
We stood frozen for the split second of the drop, then realized after pushing a few buttons, we were stuck. Staring at each other in silence, knowing my disdain of French elevators, we waited for my panic attack to begin, which to my surprise, has been cured. (Thanks Joe!). Then as if on cue we both started to laugh at the same moment. Why? That's all we could do was laugh. After laughing and taking a few pictures, we found the emergency number posted in the elevator and called for help.
Adrian called almost everyone she knew in the surrounding area of Nice to help us. So many of her 'Nice' friends called for help, that the Elevator Support Office called her back to tell us help was on the way, and "Please stop calling the office!".
We were 'rescued' shortly afterwards, just in time to make it to dinner with a beautiful ocean view, I love France, but I don't like French elevators.
Stuck but not claustrophobic!
The Nice Rescue Technician
Back of Elevator, stopped between floors...I have never been one to let fear control me, therefore, I will still ride these tiny elevators even when we return to Paris, but I will never like them.
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