...Trains...

After a short four hours of sleep I was up again this morning(Tuesday), out of the flat, and on my way to the tube.  From the tube to the train was fairly easy and uneventful, but along the way I was reminded why I am so fond of the British system of labeling everything right down to the signs on the road for pedestrians to “look right”.  There was also free internet at St. Pancras – an unexpected bonus.  From St. Pancras to Calais was uneventful, and I now once again have two London stamps in my passport.  The only thing of remark was that the gift shop in St. Pancras was awash with both coverage of the royal wedding, and of advertisements for the London Olympics. 

Arriving at Calais I successfully validated my rail pass and boarded my train – where I am right now.  I should note however that announcements on the International train and in the London station were in four languages.  In France everything is only in French.  I am on next to Paris and then Stuttgart. 

Wednesday, June 15^th, 2011: 11:51pm (GMT + 1:00)

The rest of the train ride went rather well actually.  It was getting out of Paris that was an issue. In hindsight it was probably easier than I thought it would be, or than I made it – but hindsight is 20/20 isn’t it?

Upon arrival into Paris I went immediately to the ticket window to reserve a seat on the next train to Stuttgart. (Here begins my Parisian rant…) Apparently most reservations for trains in France have to be made two to three days in advance, if not more – something I was not warned of – AND there are only a limited number of seats available for Eurail Pass holders on each train.  Also one is required to have a seat.  Because of these things I was laughed at by the ticket window boy.  He told me I could by a ticket for the night train in two days.  Clearly not an option.  I then went to the information window and asked for info on buses traveling out of the country.  She handed me a brochure for Eurolines – a tour bus company.  She then looked at me like I had three heads.  Buses to Germany were 127€ and who knows when they were leaving as this was a touring company, not really a national bus system.  Also not an option. Frustrated with the information and service being provided I decided to look for my own answers.  I pulled out my iPad and started looking for a café with free wifi.  Upon walking out of the station I was immediately accosted by a man selling newspapers to support the poor.  When he realized I didn’t speak French he was even more persistent.  The newspaper was in French.  I walked about a block further and found a café with wifi.  I ordered a cup of coffee and started my internet search for ways to get out of Paris.  Unfortunately the internet was very very slow.  I did however manage to find out that there were still seats on multiple trains to Stuttgart that day.   (I arrived in Paris at noon, by now it is 2pm)  I returned to the train station to see what it would cost to buy a ticket on one of those trains.  As I was leaving the café the waiter asked if he would see me again.  Creep.  The ticket woman the second time around was much more helpful.  She also wasn’t a pubescent boy.  Perhaps there is a correlation.  I was able to purchase a ticket from the east Paris station, for more than I would have liked, but it was still possible.  The fact that it was possible rather bothers me.  The rest of the countries in Europe do not require reservations for their trains (with the Eurail pass), and they do not require that you have a seat (except for the night trains).  In other countries one simply boards a train and then if there are no seats one stands.  This is not a big deal.  France also refuses to let more than a certain number of Eurail travelers on at a time.  But in France one must have a seat, and make a reservation ahead of time (which costs money in addition to the cost of the pass).   With my ticket I now had to find my way from the north station to the east station for the 5 o’clock train (its’ about 2:30 at this point).  After obtaining a map of Paris from another information window (from another woman who did not even look up at me) I headed east.  The two stations are actually quite close it turns out – only about a ten minute walk.
I thought it would be a good idea to attempt to get back on the internet and alert Christian and his family of my time of arrival.  There was a great broad plaza in front of the East train station, and not a bench in sight.  Instead I perched myself upon a low metal rail surrounding a column.

Thursday, June 16, 2011: 7:05pm (GMT + 1:00)

As I was perched upon the railing I took out my iPad again and messaged Christian to tell him when I’d be getting in.  While updating face book and looking into other modes of travel in Europe a man came up to me and told me I was beautiful.  Perhaps the attention was unwanted, but it wasn’t particularly distressing.  What was distressing was that it took me 15 minutes to get rid of him.  He was persistent in asking me to have coffee with him, asking questions about me, and telling me about himself.  He also offered me a cigarette, and to be my tour-guide of Paris, among other things.  There was also a lot of attempted cheek kissing.  Dislike.  After he finally left I noticed another family nearby, and their children were speaking English!  They also had about a million and a half bags, and were mildly overweight.  Perhaps I am stereotyping, but my assumption that they were American turned out to be correct.  They were from Ohio.  Feeling the need to attach myself to someone for fear of more creepers I struck up a conversation about America and traveling with children - also about baggage.  (My backpack was easily the largest I’d seen yet, but this family of four had at least five suitcases plus a stroller and two car-seats.)  Apparently the father was working in Paris and the mother and children were along for touristing for a few weeks.  I chatted with them for a bit and then, still having almost two hours to kill, decided to go see a little more of the city.

 According to my map a monument labeled “République” was not too far away.  Walking down the boulevards I was getting a lot of looks from creepy old men – enough that it prompted me to put a cardigan on over my sleeveless sundress.  The monument was interesting I suppose – I attempted to take pictures of myself in front of it.  What was more interesting actually was the gypsies camping in the park nearby – they seemed to have permanent settlements.  As I was walking by I watched as a father encouraged his two year old son to play with a broken toy, a toy I had when I was smaller in fact.  It consists of a furry thing that looks rather like a ferret attached to a battery powered ball.  The ball has a small motor inside which spins a weight causing the ball to roll and the ferret to follow after – because of the uneven motion of the ball it appears that the ferret is pushing the ball.  The batteries in this ball were apparently out so the father was substituting gravity and rolling the ball down a small hill. 

Having taken photos I headed towards another nearby monument on the map – Marie du Xe.  Keep in mind that I have never heard of any of these monuments before in my life, I was mostly wandering towards things listed on the map.  I managed to trip upstairs going into the building and fall flat on my face with my backpack on top of me – brilliant on my part, I know.  After recovering I made my way inside where there was an exhibition about the nearby St.Louis Hospital. There were lots of old photos of nuns. Apparently the only significance of this building was that it is the headquarters for a historical renovation effort in Paris. Exiting the building I walked back towards the East Paris train station past a school building with a yard full of singing and screaming children.  The school yard was elevated above the street – so I couldn’t actually see the children, but they sounded lovely. 

Once I made my way back to the train station the ride and the trip to Stuttgart were actually quite pleasant.  The Stuttgart train station was nothing particularly exciting, but there was a large fence outside the train station covered in signs, teddy bears, and flowers.  I assumed there was some sort of train accident, but apparently it is a protest that has been going on for more than a year against updating the Stuttgart train station. 

I took another local train to the smaller town which Christian lives in.  There Christian and his family met me at the train station and we proceeded directly to a village festival where the final night meant a small fireworks show.  The festival was quite similar to any small town fair with food stalls and brightly lit rides.  Of course, this being Germany there was also a beer garden. The fireworks were quite lovely, though a little close in.  By the end of the 20 minute show I had a crick in my neck from staring up so much.  Christian and I briefly looked in on the beer garden, met with some of his friends, and then met his parents and brother for the ride home.  There we sat in the yard, toasted my arrival with sparkling wine and had some pasta salad and yogurt with strawberries.   Overall it was quite lovely and also delicious.