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.
