[Real time note: It's Sunday, August 9th, which is National Day here in Singapore. The country turns 44 today, which seems awfully young compared to the rest of the world. I can hear the boom of fireworks in the distance (yes, Millie is hiding somewhere), and I'm recoving from returning from Cambodia just a few days ago. I'd better get on and finish Europe so I can post about that, but check out my Facebook if you want a sneak peak.]
Sunday, July 5th
Today was supposed to be an easy day. Walk to the train station. Board train. Nap on train. Arrive in Switzerland. Bed.
Not so, of course. I had bought our rail tickets from Nice to Yverdon-Les-Bain (Switzerland, David had business there) ahead of time, so it should have been easy. But to quote a fellow passenger about the train stations in France, "...they sure don't do you any favors." There are very few signs to help you where to go, they don't post the platform until about 1 minute before the train arrives, the train itself doesn't have any numbers, and sometimes the train is actually two trains hooked together, and you have to guess which end to get on. There are always a few nervous looking tourists, asking other passengers, "This is the train to Geneva, right? We're heading to Switzerland, right? I'm on the right train, right?" Only after the train started to move did we realize we were not on the wrong train, but the wrong end of the train. There are two Number 1 cars with seats 33 and 34. If we didn't switch, our end of the train would stay in France, while the other end headed for Switzerland without us.
So after a not-very-reassuring conversation with one of the train conductors, we were told "in about two hours or so" we could hop off and re-board on the other (hopefully still attached) end of the train. Did I mention that the train stops are about 5 minutes max? Did I also mention how LOOOONNGGG these trains are? Then add David and me carrying three weeks worth of luggage and souveniers (darn those coffee table books from England!), David and I readied ourselves with our luggage at the appointed time, and as soon as the train stopped, we hauled our luggage off the train and tried to run to the other end. Jeezum crow, this train was literally a half a mile long. I gave up running after the first 400 yards, first because I was completely out of breath and second, I was beginning to be embarrassed by the dirty looks as I kept running over French toes with my 50 pound suitcase. We did make it, but our relaxing 7 hour train ride was shot. I had too much adrenaline now to nap at all, and I can't read on trains or I get a headache.
But as usual, as soon as the journey was over, we were rewarded by fresh air andbeautiful scenery. Here was our first view:
Dinner that night was an Italian place, one of the only ones in town open of the ungodly hour of 9pm. The waiter didn't speak english, but using a mixture of broken French, German, and Italian (thanks iPhone dictionary!), we got some pasta, and started looking forward to tomorrow. No trains.
P.S. I forgot to mention our Brush With Fame. On the train from Geneva to Yverdon-Les-Bain, we started chatting with another American who had also just left France and was heading to Zurich. After hearing our MN connection, he mentioned that he had worked at the Guthrie back in the day. "So, have you been in anything else?". "Well, I've been in over 63 movies and a few TV shows. You might know me as the dad from Dharma and Greg." I knew him better as the villan in Lethal Weapon:
Mitch Ryan. Great guy, we also talked about the Korean war and his lactose intolerance. The dude is 81 and looked fantastic.
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