I said some painful goodbyes to some good friends over the last few days. Shirts that did the ride across Canada, both my front panniers, shoes that took me through floods and mountains. They all had to go to get my duffel bag down to some good carrying weight!
The nice thing about travelling is that you suddenly get grateful for small things. For example, I was prepared to sleep outside last night when I spied the hostel for the tram and decided to see if they had a room. Victory!!
When I got to the cycle shop, I was prepared to pay up to 150 Euros for getting my bike boxed. It cost 20. Bonus!! Maybe these guys are related to Mike's Bikes.
Travelling with a boxed bike and a duffel bag makes me about as mobile as the worlds heaviest man. I needed to leapfrog down the street by carrying one and then the other individually; I wasn't actually leapfrogging. I reached the station and put my duffel bag down. As I left, a lady passed me going toward the station. I went back around the corner to grab my bike box. As I rounded the corner, I could see her talking to the lady across the platform. As I got within 100 metres, she shouted, "Is this your bag?". I nodded in the affirmative and as I get closer, she says to me that she was about to call the police. Dangerous times!
Traveling on the tram was also quite an adventure! I got on the back thinking it would be less crowded. One younger lady was leaning against the wall and didn't think that moving up the aisle to the free seats would be helpful. I placed the bike box in and she still hasn't moved. When I placed the duffel bag in, she was trapped like the German Sixth Army Group at Stalingrad. It only took about two minutes of the bike box leaning against her to make her realize that moving was in both our interests. She broke out and moved over so that I could lean the bike box against the wall, creating more space for everyone. She just needed an attitude adjustment to get properly motivated. I notice that as the train gets closer to the TGV station, France suddenly gets more diverse and the construction of new, block type buildings is rampant. At the second last stop before the TGV station, everyone leaves the train. "Is it something I said?" I ask aloud to the empty tram. These people aren't going to Paris for the weekend.
At the TGV station, I am surprised by how small it is. One ticket wicket and a small shop. I continue to pare down my belongings saying goodbye to some travel socks, shorts, matches, maps from visited towns, etc. There is power to be had so I'm happy about that so I power up the iPhone as I wait for my train.
There is some sort of strike by the national train company so I've had to get to a far TGV station and some trains have been cancelled and rerouted. I'm happy that mine is still a go but am nervous as no one else has nearly as much luggage as me. The France love their drama so they wait 20 minutes to announce which platform to go to. I get the signal and head to number four. I am in second class so I need to find the right carriage. I look at the screen and find I have to leapfrog my stuff down mid way down the platform. An elderly English group arrives behind me wondering where to go and I help them make the connection between the train on the screen and the flashing dot indicating where the train will stop. They're at the front. They say they fill sorry for me with the big bike box and wonder how I will get it on the train. I tell them I have the same concern.
The train arrives and I throw my duffel bag on a pile of luggage. Getting my bike on will be awkward to say the least and will block a door- always a big no-no when travelling. I approach the door and just as I am about to throw my bike on, a senior conductor shakes his head and tells me I cannot take the box on that particular train. I explain to him that I told the lady yesterday what my situation was. He then asks me,"Are you English or German?" and I respond "English". He then tells me he knows its a bike and I explain the whole situation again. At the same time that this is happening, he's got about 4 other people standing around with unique problems he's got to solve while still keeping the trains running on time. I tell him that I'll leave the bike if he wants. I've used this technique at the airport and my Dad always laughed at this event and recalled it several times. Once I was taking an old pair of skis back to Japan and I believe I already had two full sized bags. The lady at the counter said that I'd have to pay 150$ to get them onward. In my best Theodore "Beaver" Cleaver voice I turned to my sister Tara and said, "I guess I'll just leave them here" and started to hand them to her. The lady said,"Oh, let's just put them on, they're not that big."Victory!" In this case, I was quite serious about leaving the bike as I only had 20 hours to get to the airport and I didn't want to be late. The conductor decide that I could stick it up in first class luggage. I thanked him and ran up to the first class doors. I leaned the bike against the wall and went back to collect my duffle bag. The conductor was looking at all the luggage and still was arguing with about 3 different people. I grabbed my duffel bag from the ruins and ran back to first class with my duffel bag held under my arm like Pinball Williams driving toward the goal line. The conductor came by about 20 minutes later and I thought he would check my ticket. He just kept walking past without a word probably wishing for Friday so he could leave these foreigners behind for the weekend. I stopped him and handed him 50 Euros explaining that I wanted to thank him for not having to leave a $800 bike on the side of the platform. In a typical French fashion he answered plainly, "If you want to." and took the money and walked on. When he came past few minutes later, he stopped and asked me what kind of bike it was in a slightly more friendly voice. Perhaps my experience will help him continue to be helpful to travellers. Whatever the result, I felt like I had gotten on a lifeboat of the titanic and was happy to still be connected to my steel horse.
Getting off the train at the airport felt like a real accomplishment and people looked at me and my massive bike box and duffel bag and wondered why I was smiling! The hard part was over! As if by some heavenly gift from the Gods, in front of me is a trolley for the taking. Victory!
I made my way onto the train to take me to Terminal 3 and was surprised how the walkway is not completely covered. Finally arrived at Terminal 3 and found it was quite quiet and had little in the way of commerce. Perhaps richer pickings lurk after the baggage check. Like every airport, they've jacked the price on everything by 300% but they do have unlimited wifi and chargers galore so I'm set. I suppose others might take advantage and try to get out and into Paris but doing so means storing my luggage, getting into Paris, and then getting back again in time for my flight. Just happy to be here, settled in, wiling away the hours and recovering mentally from the 6 hour journey here.