Journal Entry: More Train Shenanigans

This was the worst day by far. And it’s raining too, but at least I didn’t get caught in it. I hate Paris. More specifically please send me back to the endless fields of grapes.

The train ride was bad. But let me back up. After I checked out of the hostel, I missed the gas station where I was going to get gas. I pulled into a different one, but the streets are all one way, so I couldn’t go back. I got a bit lost. Then once I found the station parking, I couldn’t find the Avis spots. 

I filled it up!

The paint was almost worn off the pavement, but I finally saw them. Then when I went into the station, I saw on the board that there was an electrical problem between Toulouse and Carcassonne, so the trains were delayed/cancelled. I might be on the six o’clock news here, as there was a guy from France 3 walking around interviewing people.

I stood in line, and found the Avis office is unsigned, and on the front right side of the station. Then the girl told me to go to catch the bus to Narbonne as I had a layover for the train to Paris there. 

I missed the bus. But then I stood in line again and they said the train I was supposed to be on was okay. I waited but they all said they were still delayed so when a train came in and was marked “Narbonne” I went up to Information and asked if I should get on it, and the lady said yes. So I ran, and made it just as it was leaving. 

I caught the train in Narbonne no problem. The train ride from Narbonne to Paris was horrid. No dead body this time, though I could have killed the fat pig of a man sitting next to me. He was probably 350 pounds, and didn’t even try to keep to his seat. [Note that I used to be quite fat, but I tried my best to not invade other people's space.] And he smelled and kept coughing without covering his mouth. And he was ugly. And I don’t mean just physically. His soul was ugly. 

I spent €5 on a yogurt and water, just to sit in the dining car and get away from him.

I got to the hostel okay. The restaurant was really busy. I wanted to eat there, but all the tables were reserved. When I finally got a table, no one waited on me. I was irritable from the train ride so that might have colored my perception of things. 

Normally the bar has a good vibe, but when I arrived it was horribly crowded with large school groups

 I finally went to the store and bought a small bottle of wine from the Pays d’Oc!!!! Yum! It was only €2.75 or so. I also bought a sandwich from the place down the street from the hostel. “Poulet avec fromage.” And they asked me if I wanted it hot. They meant spicy. It wasn’t that spicy. Not like the place in Marseille. 

My writing sucks. I blame the wine and that I want to go to sleep. 

Good night.

Journal Entry: The Worst Train Ride

What a day! Where to begin? At the beginning I suppose. The train ride started off uneventfully enough. I was excited when we were almost to Toulon, because my father said he’d been there when he was in the Marine Corp. He told me a story about an older woman who befriended him while he was there, and how she expressed interest in coming to the US and he wrote her after he got home but never heard from her again. Anyway, they announced that we would be “waiting” at Toulon for a bit. I think this message was in French. I only understood part of what was going on. The lady who was sitting next to me got off in Toulon. A man got on and sat next to me. Finally they make another announcement, and the man makes an exasperated gesture. I take it that we are delayed. 

After a bit the train starts moving. I was going to bitch about the annoying couple across the aisle from me that were having the most obnoxious conversation (they were Americans) but all that pales in comparison to what happened next. 

We stop at a station not on the list. We wait. They make more announcements in French. Finally we move again, and after a bit, we stop again. They announce we are delayed an hour and a half. 

Finally we move again. After a short distance I see a “gendarmerie” car, the police. Also a bunch of “SNCF” (french rail) cars. Two men are standing around, then about thirty to fifty meters [further], there are another group of men, some police. [I snap pictures, not realizing what is going on.] Eight of them [police] maybe and a sheet on the ground. A sneakered foot stuck out from under it! I exclaimed out loud and uncontrollably “Oh my God!” and everyone in the car stood up to see what I saw. [The man next to me, said something in French and motioned for everyone to sit back down.]

Shock doesn’t begin to adequately describe it. Then when we are moving again, we are very close to Marseille, when an alarm starts going off on the train. [As if my nerves aren't on edge enough as it is.] Three [SNCF] personnel come tearing through our car, and open a door at the back and go down the stairs. This was a two level train. The door they went through was “staff only.” I’m not sure what they were saying but it seemed that someone had opened the rear door while the train was in motion? I’m still not sure exactly what was going on. I asked the man next to me at some point if he spoke English, but he said no. I asked the (formerly) obnoxious Americans across the aisle if they knew what was going on, and all they could say was that the door had been opened but they weren’t fluent so they weren’t entirely sure either. 

So then we stop in a tunnel. And maybe I asked all of the aforementioned in the tunnel. I was afraid there was a bomb or something. [Because you know why they stop you in a tunnel?! They suspect a bomb!!!] And we were in the tunnel for a while, I suppose they were checking everything. [Not many things seriously freak me out. That did. And it didn't help that I couldn't understand what anyone was saying.]

Finally we made it to Marseilles, and in one piece, happy and healthy, and a bit hungry too! I was so glad to be off that train.  

 

Marseille

The hostel is nice. I went down to the “Vieux Port” and on the way I saw a McDonalds and stopped there to eat. That’s the first time I’ve eaten there on this trip. 

I took bus #60 up to Notre Dame de la Garde. First time I’ve taken a bus in France. A lot of firsts today! The cathedral was amazing, and the view even more so. They had a statue of St Antonio of Padua. I paid €1 and lit a candle for Zech. And cried too.  

Why do people throw their lives away?.....

 

St. Anthony of Padua

 

Shiny

I got back to the hostel, and the door to the room I was assigned was broken. They couldn’t get the lock open. The girl at reception offered me a drink for my trouble [and offered me a strong drink after she heard my story of the train trip to Marseille]. I just wanted some ice water. It was good and cold. Made me feel better. 

 

Fixing the Lock

They finally fixed the lock. I had a good conversation with one of the girls in the room. Her name was Ann. She was from Virginia I think. I told her all about Italy. I am overly chatty after traveling alone. 

I’m not sure where I’m going tomorrow, maybe Avignon, or Nimes.

Journal Entry: Avebury and Sore Knees (Again)

I’m back at the hostel now. My knees are sorta bothering me. They started aching when I was walking up a hill. Too much walking up hills I suppose.

Avebury Stone Circle

Today I went to Avebury. I took a train to Swindon Rail Station and then a bus to Avebury. It was well worth it. I spent about four and a half hours there. I walked all the way around the stone circle, went in the church and a couple of shops. I bought Jan an old key. It was £4. {As opposed to the €700(!) key I asked about in Paris}

I also walked over to Silbury Hill and West Kennett Long Barrow. The barrow was pretty cool, and you could go in it, which I was surprised about. I was the only one there.

I had lunch at The Red Lion Inn. Another burger with chips. I really didn’t feel like anything else, it cost £7.95. 

 

West Kennett Long Barrow

I also had a sausage sandwich for breakfast at a café near the bus station. It was quite good. {Sally Lunn’s wasn’t open when I left}

I got back to Bath about 5pm and went to Sally Lunn’s. I had the “Bath Cream Tea” just as I did on my honeymoon. It was delicious as always. 

Sally Lunn's "Bath Cream Tea"

Now I’m just sitting here. Everything is closed except the pubs and I don’t really know what else to do with myself. I don’t really want to walk anywhere since my knees are giving me grief. I think I’ll call Andy and maybe Jan. My bloody phone bill is going to be $300. Then a shower I think. Tomorrow I’m going to Oxford in the morning.