The Unbearable Darkness of the Metro, or, The Joy of RATP[1]
[1] Régie Autonome des Transports Parisiens = RATP, which runs the métro, suburban train lines and buses. Ra-tuh-pay to the French. I prefer the English pronunciation for its honesty.
The trains on line 4 have the nasty habit of stopping in the tunnel right before Porte d'Orléans. The interior lights go out entirely for a couple of seconds until the dim backup lights kick in. Occasionally it'll stay like that for a few minutes to increase the suspense.
If we're stuck for more than a few minutes, unintelligible noises will issue from the carriages's loudspeakers. Or they won't. My high school French teacher used to put a handkerchief over his mouth to better re-enact what a French station announcement sounded like. Oh, how we laughed.
The other day, the lights went out for two seconds, on for two, out, on, out, on, blink, blink, blink. A minute more and we would all have been the RATP's willing zombie slaves, ready to cast ourselves on the third rail at the driver's bidding.
The trains on line 4 have the nasty habit of stopping in the tunnel right before Porte d'Orléans. The interior lights go out entirely for a couple of seconds until the dim backup lights kick in. Occasionally it'll stay like that for a few minutes to increase the suspense.
If we're stuck for more than a few minutes, unintelligible noises will issue from the carriages's loudspeakers. Or they won't. My high school French teacher used to put a handkerchief over his mouth to better re-enact what a French station announcement sounded like. Oh, how we laughed.
The other day, the lights went out for two seconds, on for two, out, on, out, on, blink, blink, blink. A minute more and we would all have been the RATP's willing zombie slaves, ready to cast ourselves on the third rail at the driver's bidding.