Sacre Bleu! Back in France

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We left Barcelona and made our way to Marseille via a train switch in Montpellier. The station in Spain could only get us so far into France, and we had to try our luck at another train to reach Marseille. There were some kids in the Montpellier train station who were getting the full benefit of recently waxed floors by sliding across them like baseball players. Erin said that the backs of their pants were black by the time they finished. It was great to watch kids having fun. In the meantime, I went on an extended search for a bathroom, only to return dejected. I’ve got to learn to start going on the train. I even tried a McDonald’s outside the station, but its bathroom was out of order. After Erin got our next train situation settled, we again searched for a bathroom, and found one that cost .50 euros to use. People say that Americans will find any way possible of making money, but other than a $.25 fee to use a bathroom in Hollywood (home of the homeless), I’ve never had to pay. We then found a café and hung out until our departure time.

While we were waiting, a gentleman approached us about using my computer to make a hotel booking in Barcelona; he was getting there a day early, and had been unable to make arrangements via phone. Phil now lives in Naples, Florida, but he’s originally from Minneapolis, Minnesota. There was no Internet service in the train station, so we crossed the street to an Internet café that had been recommended by a newsstand employee. There was a table stacked with boxes in front of the door, so I was going to mosey along, but Phil stuck his head in the door to say hello. There was a French voice coming from the back of the room, so I stepped one step inside to ask about the location of another café. The man in the back came towards us and started berating us (in English!) about the meaning of the table with boxes. He demanded to know where we were from, and accused us of being from ‘the States.’ I got in his face and told him that there was no need to be rude; he demanded that we leave, which we did, without giving him the pleasure of our home addresses.

We got to Marseille, and I took my bags for a walk as Erin made plans for the next day’s journey to Milan. I say that I took them for a walk, because my printout for the hostel gave the street name, but not which way to turn. Kids, if you ever do something like this, bring an atlas! Erin got our travel arrangements, and we tried the other direction from the train station, and we found the hostel. The gentleman inside was extremely nice, and the room was quite spacious. Erin found a cockroach, named him Merv, and then stomped him out of existence. I think that naming him first was a bit much. Anyway, we were only in Marseille for a few hours before bed, but I loved it! The sea breeze and the night lights were a nice effect. We were a little perplexed when a mini-band with a tuba, saxophone, drums, and three 30-something cheerleaders marched up the street, but hey, c’est la vie.

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Photos

Kids spitting
The kids dove out of frame when they saw my camera.

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Comments

[Kathleen Cook]

Nice Photo!!
Fred - Nice to know you are thinking about me!!!! Hope you are having a great time!!