Under the water, carry the water/Farewell to this Land´s Tuneless Marshes
French people have a reputation for being "not very nice". Especially when it comes to Americans. I have found this observation to be almost uniformly false. Not counting the good treatment I usually receive from French in the United States, I have received exceptionally good treatment from French in France. Examples?
Why of course! Only yesterday, I was in the Gare d´ Nord train station in Paris, having recently arrived from London and was attempting to purchase a metro ticket to the Austerlitz station, where I would catch a train to Barcelona later that evening. When my credit card failed to work in the Metro ticket machine, a French dude GAVE me a FREE metro ticket from his wallet, casually brushing off my thanks. He knew he would never see me again. He knew that I COULD get a ticket on my own by waiting in yet another very long line for the human ticket vendor. And he clearly knew that I was an American. And he GGGGGGGAAAAAAAVEEEEEEE me a ticket! Would you ever do that for a stranger? I am not sure I would!
Yesterday was a travel day from London to Barcelona, and was thus mostly uneventful. I got to Waterloo station in London very early, so I had enough time to sweatily wander around, completely lost until I found the International terminal and the proper method for "checking in".
The highlight of the train ride to Paris (my first stop) was being arrested by a bachelorette party of 14 for about 2 minutes while I walked from my seat to the water closet.
Paris itself was on the other hand, quite wonderful. I am always (both two times!) amazed at how Paris lives up to its reputation. I had about 3 hours between my trains so found a cafe where I casually consumed a ham sandwich on baguette alone with a beer and later a coffee and a croissant. So delicious. So reasonably priced! Despite my gigantic bag and the sweat stains on the back of my black shirt from rapid walking through the city, I felt completely content where I was, watching the French people pass by.
How do they do it, eh? They used to have colonies, true. That must have helped. But why does Parisian life seem so nearly consistently superior to life in Los Angeles? We control the movie industy. Shouldn´t that be worth something when it comes to making a good pastry?
I almost missed my second train because I did not notice that Paris is time zonally 1 hour ahead of London (fortunately I "decided" to get to the train station an hour early!)
Highlights of the train:
1. My first night train! I slept peacefully and soundly!
2. My own private room! The other three beds in the tiny room had not been booked. While the room at capacity would have been hellish, as a single it was perfect. In fact, the first time I have slept with privacy on my trip. Furthermore, it had a power plug so I could charge my camera battery and my iPod battery! Thus, understandably, I lip synced to Fiery Furnaces songs in the mirror while brushing my teeth.
3. Two guys playing hot hands in the train cafe. I haven´t seen anybody over the age of 10 besides myself and whoever I was playing play hot hands. Such a fun game. But these guys were both over 50. And they were slapping hard.
4. I woke up in Barcelona! Thatś a whole lot better than waking up for school!
Why of course! Only yesterday, I was in the Gare d´ Nord train station in Paris, having recently arrived from London and was attempting to purchase a metro ticket to the Austerlitz station, where I would catch a train to Barcelona later that evening. When my credit card failed to work in the Metro ticket machine, a French dude GAVE me a FREE metro ticket from his wallet, casually brushing off my thanks. He knew he would never see me again. He knew that I COULD get a ticket on my own by waiting in yet another very long line for the human ticket vendor. And he clearly knew that I was an American. And he GGGGGGGAAAAAAAVEEEEEEE me a ticket! Would you ever do that for a stranger? I am not sure I would!
Yesterday was a travel day from London to Barcelona, and was thus mostly uneventful. I got to Waterloo station in London very early, so I had enough time to sweatily wander around, completely lost until I found the International terminal and the proper method for "checking in".
The highlight of the train ride to Paris (my first stop) was being arrested by a bachelorette party of 14 for about 2 minutes while I walked from my seat to the water closet.
Paris itself was on the other hand, quite wonderful. I am always (both two times!) amazed at how Paris lives up to its reputation. I had about 3 hours between my trains so found a cafe where I casually consumed a ham sandwich on baguette alone with a beer and later a coffee and a croissant. So delicious. So reasonably priced! Despite my gigantic bag and the sweat stains on the back of my black shirt from rapid walking through the city, I felt completely content where I was, watching the French people pass by.
How do they do it, eh? They used to have colonies, true. That must have helped. But why does Parisian life seem so nearly consistently superior to life in Los Angeles? We control the movie industy. Shouldn´t that be worth something when it comes to making a good pastry?
I almost missed my second train because I did not notice that Paris is time zonally 1 hour ahead of London (fortunately I "decided" to get to the train station an hour early!)
Highlights of the train:
1. My first night train! I slept peacefully and soundly!
2. My own private room! The other three beds in the tiny room had not been booked. While the room at capacity would have been hellish, as a single it was perfect. In fact, the first time I have slept with privacy on my trip. Furthermore, it had a power plug so I could charge my camera battery and my iPod battery! Thus, understandably, I lip synced to Fiery Furnaces songs in the mirror while brushing my teeth.
3. Two guys playing hot hands in the train cafe. I haven´t seen anybody over the age of 10 besides myself and whoever I was playing play hot hands. Such a fun game. But these guys were both over 50. And they were slapping hard.
4. I woke up in Barcelona! Thatś a whole lot better than waking up for school!
posted by Jed at 9:24 AM
2 Comments:
Oh, Paris...I miss it so much! I love the French, even the snooty ones. I am glad that you did not end up at Gare de l'Est by accident like you did the last time you were in Paris.
That was such a disaster. I have been confused and lost many times on this trip, but so far I think I am yet to make as grand a mistake as that which I made attempting to meet you 5 years ago (can you believe it was that long ago?)
Still, that was a nice afternoon, wasn´t it?
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