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: Train Ride to Naples Commentary

I am on the train to Naples. We left a little late, we are just now in Aversa, not sure where that is in relation to Naples. I just finished reading “The Hunger Games.” It was okay [not really], not bad [yes it was]. I guess I’ll need to read the other books now if I care to know what happens [I don't]. 

As an aside the train is much better than the one V. and I rode on in ’09, save the annoying Americans in front of me. Rich twits.

Journal Entry: On the Way to Heathrow

Homeward journey commences. I’m now on the Heathrow Express to Heathrow Airport. I’m flying business so I go from roughing it to luxury. It’ll be a long time before I’ll have the miles to get upgraded again. Next time Andy is coming with me and we can rent an apartment, probably in the Pyrenees.

I missed the underground train to Paddington by ten seconds and had to wait nearly fifteen minutes for another train. It’s a good thing I leave early. Then I missed the first Heathrow Express by about ten seconds too. But there was another one in fifteen minutes.

[redacted]

I wish that Lynn had let me know earlier that she wanted a postcard. She complained on facebook about it on the 3^rd. If she’d given me her address then, I could have sent her one yesterday, but I didn’t have her address. So it’ll have to be next time. 

I’m ready to be home, I miss Andy.