Day 7, A Comedy of Errors
So the plan was challenging, but worth it. I had one day (Sunday) to get to Paris, see as much as I could, and get back. Here's the plan:
1) The trip from Brussels is only one and a quarter hours on the Thalys high speed train. I would go out at 9:15am and come back at 10:30pm, and have 13 hours in Paris.
2) The Thalys leaves Brussels from Gare du Midi. The #6 Metro runs between there and Haysel (my stop). One train, simple.
3) Once in Paris, I would rely on Open Bus Tours, a hop-on hop-off bus line. I can get on and off as I please. Slightly expensive, but simplicity is worth it.
4) Finally, I would keep enough cash for 2 cab rides. 1-to get home from Gare du Midi if I'm too tired to walk, and, most importantly, 2-to get me to the Airport the following day (Monday).
Simple, eh? Lets see how it unfolds...
Catching the train.
I left the hotel 1 1/4 hours before my train is scheduled to leave. It takes me about 20 minutes to walk to the Metro station.
Walking down the stairs to the subway, a voice comes over the PA system. In French they say, "Service to the number 6 train has been restored."
Restored!!! I'm glad it's restored, but alarmed that it had to be restored. Hopefully that won't slow me down...
Well, after about 10 minutes of waiting for a train, it soon became clear that none were coming. I begin to panic.
I find a sign, written in French and Flemish. It says, "Attention. The #6 line will undergo maintenance on the weekend of 25/9 and 26/9. For service past blahblah, you must exit at blahblah and blahblahblahblah." Why didn't I notice this sign the week before? Oh yeah, I was overwhelmed by the number of incomprehensible signs.
By now, the panic has fully set in.
A quick check of the watch reveals that my train will leave in 45 minutes. Do I have enough time to leave the train station, and try to find a cab? I'm not sure.
There are only two other people in the station, an elderly couple. Luckily they speak English a lot better than I speak French or Flemish. The woman explained what I had to do, and in fact, it was close to where they were going, so I could walk with them. Feelings of panic abated ever so slightly.
By the time the train came, I had around 1/2 hour to get to the station. Still possible, so long as the detour doesn't eat up much time.
It does.
In fact, the detour meant getting off one train, and taking another the long way around Brussels. By the time I arrive, the train has gone.
The first office can't help, because they only deal with domestic travel, not international.
The next office can't help, because while they do deal with international travel, they only schedule future travel, not immediate.
The third office can help... almost. They can't help refunding the ticket. It's non-refundable, but if you call the number at the bottom of the ticket within an hour of missing the train, you can get 1/2 of your money back. But they can sell a full price ticket to Paris. Rather than lose both tickets, I relent and buy the full price, one-way ticket.
A quick glance at a clock reveals that there are 15 minutes remaining to get my refund, and to find my train. I see a pay phone, and walk up to it. . . . and walk away, unable to make the call. I was unable to figure out how to work the thing. It doesn't take cash. It doesn't take credit cards. It takes a 'phone card' with credit on it. It would not be worth missing another train just to get half of my missed ticket back!
I did help a woman figure out how to use the lockers, however. And she repayed me by helping me figure out where the trains aren't. She thought she knew, but turned out not to know. So I found yet another desk to ask.
"Sheesh" I thought to myself. "If those dummies on Amazing Race can do this, why can't I?" I will never watch that show the same way.
Finally I make it to the right track.
I got on the train... onto the wrong car. I had to weave through people to get to my assigned car, and plopped into a seat. The man sitting next to me was not inclined to converse.
It was an amazing thing, to be streaking along the track at 200 mph, watching the telephone poles flick past. A few times we passed a train going the opposite direction. "Whump! Roar! Shoop!" It was a violent occurrence every time.
Finally, I arrive in Paris.
I want to experience Paris, the way that locals do. So I walk. The first place I come to is a lunch shop. I buy a deli sandwich on a baguette and a Coke zero for only €5,00. I was delighted to eat so frugally!
Paris is split by the Siene river, where most of the sights I want to visit are. Since rivers take the low route, I walk down-hill, taking in the town. I come across an Open Bus stop, my transportation for the day.
Each passenger is given a green pair of earbuds. They plug these into jacks beside their seat, and choose the language that they would like to hear. The voice I hear is British, sounding a lot like John Cleese.
First stop, the Louvre. It's surrounded by gardens and statues. From the Louvre you can see the Arch de Triumph, and the Eiffel Tower.
Entrance to the Louvre is now through a glass pyramid. They have airport like security. I take one last swig of my coke and pitch it in the last available trash can. "No. It's Okay!" the guard says to me. The thought of fishing it out of the trash briefly crosses my mind. (It doesn't happen.)
Inside the Louvre are treasures so amazing that it's hard to adequately describe. I spent just one hour walking the halls, spellbound. It is NOT enough time.
Every where I look are antiquities. I am in awe. I come across a familiar face.
I had to trample a few people to get to the front of the crowd. She's been around for 500 years, but I'm only here today. Move aside! :)
Not every piece of art hangs on a wall. Sometimes all you have to do is look up.
With much regret, my watch urged me to continue on. Next stop Notre Dame. Everything was beautiful inside, and unbelievably old. I wish I had time to study it in more detail. But one thing I thought was interesting, were these beautiful models of the church.
Once outside, I found a wifi hot spot (one of the few in Europe, I believe). I used Skype to call home. While I was talking, a photographer started taking bridal portraits. "Oh sure. It's easy to take stunning pictures when Notre Dame is your background!" I was slightly jealous.
A street performer playing the accordian started to play "The Chicken Dance". I held my phone up to the fence, and he played into my phone, much to the delight of Robin and Adam.
It had been raining off and on all morning, but now the rain started in earnest, with no sign of letting up. I boarded the bus to go to the next stop.
While on the bus, a passenger asked when the last bus was. "6:30" was the reply. "No!!!" I thought. I needed to finish the line I was on, and transfer back to the line that would take me to the train station. And there wasn't much time left.
Consequently, I did not get off at Arc de Triumph. And I didn't get off at the Eiffel Tower. So here it is through the bus window.
btw. It's big. Really big.
Catching the Return Train
6:28. 2 minutes until the last bus. We stop 1 stop short of the exchange, and my bus driver gets out. "Are we going to make it back in time for me to catch the yellow bus?" I ask him. "Yes, in fact, there's one coming here right now" he says pointing to the bus that's pulling up. He re-boards his bus and pulls away. Several of us try to board the newly arrived yellow bus, but the driver stops us. "I'm done for the day." he says.
Stranded! Stuck! In the middle of Paris. Visions of missing yet another train filled my head. "I guess we take the subway" the man standing next to me says.
So I got to experience the Paris Subway. It actually was something that I had wanted to do (just not out of necessity). It is really nice.
I arrived at Gare du Nord a full three hours before my train back to Brussels. I decided to have a nice meal (within site of the station). A nice steak, some good wine.
While I ate, I ruminated about the day's travel. One thing I noticed was that no one assumed I was an American! There were several people that they knew were Americans, but not me. Success!
About that time, an American family came into the restaurant. They were very annoying. The mother asked the waiter, "Don't you recognize us? We were here in June and you were our waiter!" Really lady? Across from a train station? There might have been a few other people that visited between then and now.
When I was ready, the waiter asked if I wanted dessert. I was sated, but thought I would check out the menu. Everything sounded good, but there was one thing that I would have been an idiot if I didn't have in Paris... Crème brûlée.
It was delicious, and huge! Easily 3 times as large as the ramekins I serve it in.
The Punch Line
I get on my train, on the right car, in the right seat. The train smoothly sails into the darkness, almost sounding like it's powered by UFO's. I hand the conductor my ticket, he waves it in front of his device.
"Beep". It won't scan. He tries again. "Beep", it still wont' scan. He says something, but it sounds like jibberish to me.
"I'm sorry, I don't speak French. Do you speak English?" I ask.
"Your ticket won't scan." he says. "Hold on, this ticket is for the 27th. Today is the 26th!"
My stomach sinks. How could this have happened?
"I'm going to have to charge you a supplement." he says. Where I come from, supplements are good. Vitamins, minerals, they're good for you. But that's not what he means. I'm basically on the train without a ticket, and he charges me a fine.
Epilogue
I take a taxi back. I'm defeated. How could I have screwed up my ticket? I check the date on my outbound ticket. It is also for the 27th.
Suddenly it dawns on me. I did NOT miss my train! I was 23 hours early for it! And, best of all, I still had time to cancel it!
1) The trip from Brussels is only one and a quarter hours on the Thalys high speed train. I would go out at 9:15am and come back at 10:30pm, and have 13 hours in Paris.
2) The Thalys leaves Brussels from Gare du Midi. The #6 Metro runs between there and Haysel (my stop). One train, simple.
3) Once in Paris, I would rely on Open Bus Tours, a hop-on hop-off bus line. I can get on and off as I please. Slightly expensive, but simplicity is worth it.
4) Finally, I would keep enough cash for 2 cab rides. 1-to get home from Gare du Midi if I'm too tired to walk, and, most importantly, 2-to get me to the Airport the following day (Monday).
Simple, eh? Lets see how it unfolds...
Catching the train.
I left the hotel 1 1/4 hours before my train is scheduled to leave. It takes me about 20 minutes to walk to the Metro station.
Walking down the stairs to the subway, a voice comes over the PA system. In French they say, "Service to the number 6 train has been restored."
Restored!!! I'm glad it's restored, but alarmed that it had to be restored. Hopefully that won't slow me down...
Well, after about 10 minutes of waiting for a train, it soon became clear that none were coming. I begin to panic.
I find a sign, written in French and Flemish. It says, "Attention. The #6 line will undergo maintenance on the weekend of 25/9 and 26/9. For service past blahblah, you must exit at blahblah and blahblahblahblah." Why didn't I notice this sign the week before? Oh yeah, I was overwhelmed by the number of incomprehensible signs.
By now, the panic has fully set in.
A quick check of the watch reveals that my train will leave in 45 minutes. Do I have enough time to leave the train station, and try to find a cab? I'm not sure.
There are only two other people in the station, an elderly couple. Luckily they speak English a lot better than I speak French or Flemish. The woman explained what I had to do, and in fact, it was close to where they were going, so I could walk with them. Feelings of panic abated ever so slightly.
By the time the train came, I had around 1/2 hour to get to the station. Still possible, so long as the detour doesn't eat up much time.
It does.
In fact, the detour meant getting off one train, and taking another the long way around Brussels. By the time I arrive, the train has gone.
The first office can't help, because they only deal with domestic travel, not international.
The next office can't help, because while they do deal with international travel, they only schedule future travel, not immediate.
The third office can help... almost. They can't help refunding the ticket. It's non-refundable, but if you call the number at the bottom of the ticket within an hour of missing the train, you can get 1/2 of your money back. But they can sell a full price ticket to Paris. Rather than lose both tickets, I relent and buy the full price, one-way ticket.
A quick glance at a clock reveals that there are 15 minutes remaining to get my refund, and to find my train. I see a pay phone, and walk up to it. . . . and walk away, unable to make the call. I was unable to figure out how to work the thing. It doesn't take cash. It doesn't take credit cards. It takes a 'phone card' with credit on it. It would not be worth missing another train just to get half of my missed ticket back!
I did help a woman figure out how to use the lockers, however. And she repayed me by helping me figure out where the trains aren't. She thought she knew, but turned out not to know. So I found yet another desk to ask.
"Sheesh" I thought to myself. "If those dummies on Amazing Race can do this, why can't I?" I will never watch that show the same way.
Finally I make it to the right track.
I got on the train... onto the wrong car. I had to weave through people to get to my assigned car, and plopped into a seat. The man sitting next to me was not inclined to converse.
It was an amazing thing, to be streaking along the track at 200 mph, watching the telephone poles flick past. A few times we passed a train going the opposite direction. "Whump! Roar! Shoop!" It was a violent occurrence every time.
Finally, I arrive in Paris.
I want to experience Paris, the way that locals do. So I walk. The first place I come to is a lunch shop. I buy a deli sandwich on a baguette and a Coke zero for only €5,00. I was delighted to eat so frugally!
Paris is split by the Siene river, where most of the sights I want to visit are. Since rivers take the low route, I walk down-hill, taking in the town. I come across an Open Bus stop, my transportation for the day.
Each passenger is given a green pair of earbuds. They plug these into jacks beside their seat, and choose the language that they would like to hear. The voice I hear is British, sounding a lot like John Cleese.
First stop, the Louvre. It's surrounded by gardens and statues. From the Louvre you can see the Arch de Triumph, and the Eiffel Tower.
Entrance to the Louvre is now through a glass pyramid. They have airport like security. I take one last swig of my coke and pitch it in the last available trash can. "No. It's Okay!" the guard says to me. The thought of fishing it out of the trash briefly crosses my mind. (It doesn't happen.)
Inside the Louvre are treasures so amazing that it's hard to adequately describe. I spent just one hour walking the halls, spellbound. It is NOT enough time.
Every where I look are antiquities. I am in awe. I come across a familiar face.
I had to trample a few people to get to the front of the crowd. She's been around for 500 years, but I'm only here today. Move aside! :)
Not every piece of art hangs on a wall. Sometimes all you have to do is look up.
With much regret, my watch urged me to continue on. Next stop Notre Dame. Everything was beautiful inside, and unbelievably old. I wish I had time to study it in more detail. But one thing I thought was interesting, were these beautiful models of the church.
Once outside, I found a wifi hot spot (one of the few in Europe, I believe). I used Skype to call home. While I was talking, a photographer started taking bridal portraits. "Oh sure. It's easy to take stunning pictures when Notre Dame is your background!" I was slightly jealous.
A street performer playing the accordian started to play "The Chicken Dance". I held my phone up to the fence, and he played into my phone, much to the delight of Robin and Adam.
It had been raining off and on all morning, but now the rain started in earnest, with no sign of letting up. I boarded the bus to go to the next stop.
While on the bus, a passenger asked when the last bus was. "6:30" was the reply. "No!!!" I thought. I needed to finish the line I was on, and transfer back to the line that would take me to the train station. And there wasn't much time left.
Consequently, I did not get off at Arc de Triumph. And I didn't get off at the Eiffel Tower. So here it is through the bus window.
btw. It's big. Really big.
Catching the Return Train
6:28. 2 minutes until the last bus. We stop 1 stop short of the exchange, and my bus driver gets out. "Are we going to make it back in time for me to catch the yellow bus?" I ask him. "Yes, in fact, there's one coming here right now" he says pointing to the bus that's pulling up. He re-boards his bus and pulls away. Several of us try to board the newly arrived yellow bus, but the driver stops us. "I'm done for the day." he says.
Stranded! Stuck! In the middle of Paris. Visions of missing yet another train filled my head. "I guess we take the subway" the man standing next to me says.
So I got to experience the Paris Subway. It actually was something that I had wanted to do (just not out of necessity). It is really nice.
I arrived at Gare du Nord a full three hours before my train back to Brussels. I decided to have a nice meal (within site of the station). A nice steak, some good wine.
While I ate, I ruminated about the day's travel. One thing I noticed was that no one assumed I was an American! There were several people that they knew were Americans, but not me. Success!
About that time, an American family came into the restaurant. They were very annoying. The mother asked the waiter, "Don't you recognize us? We were here in June and you were our waiter!" Really lady? Across from a train station? There might have been a few other people that visited between then and now.
When I was ready, the waiter asked if I wanted dessert. I was sated, but thought I would check out the menu. Everything sounded good, but there was one thing that I would have been an idiot if I didn't have in Paris... Crème brûlée.
It was delicious, and huge! Easily 3 times as large as the ramekins I serve it in.
The Punch Line
I get on my train, on the right car, in the right seat. The train smoothly sails into the darkness, almost sounding like it's powered by UFO's. I hand the conductor my ticket, he waves it in front of his device.
"Beep". It won't scan. He tries again. "Beep", it still wont' scan. He says something, but it sounds like jibberish to me.
"I'm sorry, I don't speak French. Do you speak English?" I ask.
"Your ticket won't scan." he says. "Hold on, this ticket is for the 27th. Today is the 26th!"
My stomach sinks. How could this have happened?
"I'm going to have to charge you a supplement." he says. Where I come from, supplements are good. Vitamins, minerals, they're good for you. But that's not what he means. I'm basically on the train without a ticket, and he charges me a fine.
Epilogue
I take a taxi back. I'm defeated. How could I have screwed up my ticket? I check the date on my outbound ticket. It is also for the 27th.
Suddenly it dawns on me. I did NOT miss my train! I was 23 hours early for it! And, best of all, I still had time to cancel it!