Journey to Paris

I'm back in Mido and JP's Montreuil apartment to my enormous relief. On Monday, I went to the French train web site and reserved a bed without incident on the overnight train between Pordenone and Paris for Wednesday night. But I wasn't sure if I would be able to pick up the ticket at an Italian station and there wouldn't be time for them to mail it; so, I never made the purchase. I was going to try to get the ticket at the station ahead of time but it just never happened. The site quoted me the price of 125 euros.

Fast forward to Wednesday, Adam drops me off at the train station on his way to his guitar lessons 1.5 hours before my train leaves for Milan (connecting to the TGV to Paris). The woman at the counter speaks a little English, but she tells me, thru repeated asking, that I cannot get a train to Paris for 3 days. All the trains are full. Does that sound right to you? It sure didn't to me! If this had happened a year ago, I would have been a blubbering crying fool out on the sidewalk, but it appears that I have changed. She said the only way to go is to fly and she flapped her little hands like a bird. I feel land locked, but I also don't really believe her. So, I ask, can I get on the train and sleep in the hallway? While I don't think she understood me, she stuck with her favorite word: no. I called Adam and Liz, not sure what to do.... Anyway, eventually, I bought a ticket to Milan anyway (21 euros) and hopped on the train.

Nearly 4 hours later, I arrived at the huge Milan train station. (The last time I was there it was after 2 weeks alone in Katriona's lovely Rome apartment. I remember drinking an espresso at a cafe table in the station and promising myself that I will never travel alone again.) I had 30 minutes to get a ticket to Paris and get on the train. But of course, it is 11 PM and no one is selling any tickets. I finally find a woman giving train information, who speaks neither English nor French, but I manage to ask my question and she manages to tell me that I must buy the ticket on the train.

The train is leaving in 10 minutes when the screen finally lets us know which platform it will be on. So, I go there and ask the first train guy "Can I buy a ticket on the train?" and he says almost exactly what the woman in Pordenone said, "The train is full. No, you cannot sleep in the train hallway." But I am persistent and he says I should ask other train guy (what are they called?). There is also a young man with a ticket for 310 euros that he is not going to use. I offer him 40, bc that is how much cash I believe I have on me, and he of course says no. I ask literally 6 different train guys, each giving me the same answer until one says, "yes, I have space." I am stunned to silence. "But this is first class. It will cost you 100 euros." No problem, do you take credit cards? "No, cash only, and there is no time for you to got the bank machine." ...I think for a moment. Will you take other currency? dollars? Yes, he will take dollars. Got to #11. So, I do.

But the thing I remember is that I have like 60 dollars and like 40 euros, which does not equal 100 euros. I am hoping he will take pity on me and not ask for anything inappropriate instead. #11 is in a very funky 1st class compartment with liquid stains on the beds and a broken window shade. Two big guys join me in the compartment, and at first that makes me nervous, but then I decide that they are harmless. They don't speak English, but we communicate in French and one of them keeps correcting my speech. They fold their bed back into chairs and sit next to each other, resting. I lie down in my area and hope for sleep.

Maybe 45 minutes later, the train has left the station, and the train guy pops his head in and immediately scolds them in English, "No, this compartment is only for women" and takes them away bringing back with him a small, scared but also rather wild looking woman dressed in a tiny lace tank top, transparent mesh thong underwear that show above her jeans and big spiky belt, pointy spiked heals, and a raspy smoker's voice (with which she only speaks French). He is gone another "2 minutes", and then takes my passport. This makes me worried that he won't give it back if I don't have the money, so I tell him that I want to pay now instead of later. I open my money belt, and much to my surprise I have 75 euros in there. While he tells me that I must give him 130 dollars, he accepts 60 dollars and 50 euros. Phew!

Me and this little woman set up our beds (the guy had to bring us sheets) and have pleasant conversation. She doesn't correct me. During the night, she startles a few times and asks me over and over "t'a ferme la porte?" did you lock the door? which I did, but at the same time I did not think it is critical.

I slept badly and the train was an hour late arriving in Paris, but the good news is that I arrived, survived and saved a total of 5 euro in the process. I am almost afraid to start thinking that I led a charmed life, but so many things have gone my way lately. I can only imagine that I am charmed or perhaps that if you just insist that things work out, they can surprise you and... work out.