Today was a travel day from Eysines/Bordeaux to Bruges/Zedelgem. Bus to bus to train to metro to train to train. The first three proceeded pretty well except the St Jean train station McDonald’s line had the rumblings of a riot. Hungover soccer fans want their nuggets and they want them now.
The first train took me to Paris, where I had to take the metro to another Paris train station to catch the train to Brussels. Online tips said this was a pretty easy process as the metro is right there at both train stations.
This is not so.
There are signs at both train stations pointing you into long, urine-soaked, twisting tunnels that eventually lead to the metro station. This was no short walk. And considering the metro ticket kiosk had already rejected my credit card, my coins, my 5 dollar bill and my pleadings before finally accepting a 10 spot, I didn’t think I had acres of time to get to the next train station to catch the Brussels train. One bright spot was that an Irishman carried my suitcase up a flight of stairs without me asking.
It went downhill from there. I found the right metro line and crammed into the car only to have the homeless passenger next to me pee his pants. I had to make some enemies to escape the widening puddle. This poor man stood there for eight stops. Don’t feel too sorry for him though–I had to stand nearby for 10.
When I escaped the pee puddle metro and found the other Paris train station, I found I had about 20 minutes to spare, so I bought a coca-cola lite for 4 Euros and the remainder of my dignity.
One benefit of my Eurail ticket (the only benefit so far?) is that it is 1st class. The tour books I have read advise against 1st class because it’s so isolated. It is isolated indeed. Gloriously so. I didn’t have to talk to anyone at all AND no one peed. It was amazing.
It was amazing until we got to Brussels, stopped at the station, but the doors wouldn’t open. Everyone was pushing towards the exit, ready to disembark, except the doors would not open. I had to transfer trains here to get on the Bruges train, and I had 15 minutes from the arrival time of my train to the departure time of my next train. The sweat I started sweating smelled of the clove cigarettes and wine of Bordeaux and also garlic, onions, and possibly propane.
When the doors finally opened I tumbled out with all my luggage and walked as fast as I could to the nearest departure screen. My train wasn’t listed. The departure board listed only the departure time and final city–not the train number. Bruges is not the final city for my train, and I didn’t know what was. I found an information desk eight minutes until departure time. He told me the platform and I started running. Three pieces of luggage in tow. Sweat flying off me like in a Gatorade commercial. I came to the gate only to see I had to ascend three flights of stairs. By now I had asthma, osteoporosis, and possibly TB. I don’t know how I got up those stairs. I left my body. I may have dislocated something.
The train came in only a minute later and I had an entire 1st class car to myself.
This was fantastic until a longer than usual announcement came over the PA (in German, I think). I had no one to ask wtf was going on. We stopped in the middle of nowhere for about 15 minutes.
Now, my Airbnb hosts were kind enough to offer to meet me at the train station to pick me up. My arrival time was already a bit late–9pm–and now it was getting later and there is no wifi on the train.
Can I take a time out for a second and say wtf is with the no wifi on the train? How advanced can you be without wifi? What is this, 1982? How hard can it be?
We eventually rolled in to Bruges at 9:30. I miraculously found the correct parking lot and met my hosts, who had checked the board and saw that someone had thrown themselves under the train before mine, so mine had to wait and then take an alternate route. I’m not convinced this person threw himself or herself under the train. I think it was a Eurail passenger who had just had enough.
So that’s how easy, comfortable, sanitary, logical, and safe rail travel is on a normal (non-strike) day, folks. How come you haven’t signed up yet? For realsies.
paralyzedbynotcaring 