Wet Paris

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I hastily finished my food and headed back upstairs to change into warmer clothes. When I got back downstairs Chris told me he’d found my radio on the back seat of the hire car. At least that’s one out of three. The weather was really miserable as headed off to the internet café at 10:30. There was a new guy behind the counter who said there were no spare seats to surf the net. There seemed to be a vacant seat but who am I to argue. I wandered off for twenty minutes and shuffled through the grey drizzle. When I came back it was the same deal so I looked for another internet café in the main street.

The guy at the other place didn’t speak any English. He didn’t seem happy with me using my laptop so I gave up on that. The keyboards there seemed really strange. Couldn’t quite work them out. I gave up in frustration and paid .75 Euro for nothing. Not happy. Went back to the original internet café. There was a seat available this time but the guy went berserk when I tried plugging my laptop directly into their pc. I tried to explain I’d done this here before several times but this guy was a real anal retentive so I walked out never to return.

It was so frustrating not being able to communicate via the net. Asia is light years ahead of Europe in this regard. I’m really missing S E Asia right now. Cheap, good infrastructure and much better weather. Thing I’m getting over Europe big time. But worse was to come when I went to Gare De Nord to look at railway ticket options. I checked out the auto ticket terminal and found that a Euro star ticket to London costs in the order of 220+ Euros. And that’s for 2nd class. I couldn’t believe my eyes. So much for the 60 Euro promo tickets the guy in the Irish pub from Manchester was talking about. I opted for a ticket to Calais instead which set me back 41 Euros, This is going to be an expensive journey travelling from Paris to London. (think I might spend a month or more in Portugal and or Morocco to cut my costs) Oh and as a bonus I got hassled by a number of beggars at Gare De Nord just to put icing on the cake.

Got back to Hotel Bastille in anticipation of using their overpriced email and net terminals but as usual they were out of order. Seems to happen all the time with cheap hotels. It’s a real pain. They’re not gaining money from an in house service and traveller’s are left with no immediate online access. Doesn’t make sense but I think the French use their hearts rather than their heads on many occasions. Went back to the second internet café in the main street. Finally worked out how to send an email using their weird French keyboard. Also checked my banking details so now I was all set. Picked up a 500 mil can of Dutch 8.5 % alcohol beer from a Chinese grocer. Only cost two Euros which is pretty good value. It had quite a sweet taste. If I was around longer I’d sample some of the other rocket fuel he had in the refrigerator.

Decided to have an authentic French meal at a local restaurant. The menu on the blackboard was in English as well as French. I ordered honeyed duck or canard as they call it over here. The waiter was born in England and moved to Sth Africa at nine years of age. He told me that he’s been in Paris for four years and that the current rainy weather is very unusual. Said it is normally hot. No prizes that he concluded it was all due to climate change. He also said I could have got a really cheap ticket on the Euro star if I’d booked ahead a month or more. Got his brother a return ticket for 88 Euros. Would have liked to have travelled on it but at least I get to go on the ferry via the peasants route.

The meal itself was nothing special. Below average French fries and barely cooked slices of duck soaked in honey. Nothing special but the bread made it a filling meal. I think this place is frequented a lot by English speakers as I heard an English couple chat across the room. I would have checked out a couple of small places in my own street that are heavily patronised but my luck they were both closed that night. I suspect that the quality of tucker in inner Melbourne stacks up pretty well against Parisian cuisine these days. At least now I can say I’ve tried it.

Decided to get an early start to catch the train to Calais. Pushed the lift button and it travelled all the way up to the fourth floor and then went down again. I’m left stranded on the fifth wondering what in the hell is going on. The lift makes its journey skywards once more stopping on the fourth floor. What next? Will it ignore me once more or will it do the right thing? Luck is on my side and I finally descend to ground level. I make my way to the metro at 08:30 and find that there is no peak hour crush. Get to Gare Du Nord with plenty of time to spare and find some fellow travellers waiting for the same train. That’s a relief as I can’t make out the destination boards clearly.

We hop onto our separate carriages and are transported at speed toward Lille. The train is very impressive, even in second class. Most of the local French get off at Lille leaving a small group of travellers headed for Calais. We arrive at Calais Frethun and discover that we need to get another train to Calais Ville. I had to pay extra and wait forty-five minutes for the connecting train. Then when we finally get to Calais Ville we have to buy yet another ticket on the bus to the Ferry port. This would have to be one of the most inefficient transport systems I’ve encountered. Once we get to the ferry departure hall we find that there will be another hour wait. So what’s new. Jack, a fellow Aussie from the Gold Coast stayed on the train we hopped off of and went directly to Calais Ville station.
Begs the question why weren’t we all sold tickets to that station at Gare Du Nord.

I get through the metal detector and British immigrations without much hassle. Although they are thorough compared to the Europeans. An incident occurs in the boarding area. A disturbed French guy in a brown leather jacket racially vilified an Iraqi girl who is Jewish. He runs off into the ladies toilets and is apprehended by a large group of police and security people. He shouts out some incoherent abuse at the waiting passengers and throws a screwed up piece of paper on the floor like it’s a hand grenade. The guy is dragged off out of the boarding area, his shoes sliding against the floor as if he’s skating. It’s the last we see of him.

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Comments

[TC]

Wet Paris
It's amazing how dull and dreary weather can get one down when travelling. Grey skies and drizzle don't make for being outdoors, doing touristy type things like sightseeing. And fellow travellers and workers alike tend to be grumpy and dour as well. Not to mention the inefficiencies of travel connections that can try the patience of a very patient person. Ah, but the sun will soon peek through and a ray of light will evaporate that puddle.