So after a month of baguettes, wine, and confusing subways… we have left France and arrived in Lisbon, Portugal.
We have had the opportunity to see many of the famous sights, the beautiful countryside, and take part in many “French experiences” (Including our increasing ability to ignore the little red man at the crosswalks, something Benoit told us is very French). In fact, with only a few hours before catching our plane, we were inadvertently treated to a very authentic French experience. Our flight was at 9:30am, but because the airport is an hour outside of Paris, we had to catch an assigned bus at 6:30. Before we left Paris the first time, we had the opportunity to make a dry run on the subways to the bus station, and determined it would take about an hour. We didn’t have the slightest problem, either, getting to the station, so we were quite ready for our travel day. We thought we’d be fine.
Which, of course, is the cue for France’s public transportation to sock it to us one last time. You may not know this, but the workers in France have a penchant for striking. Apparently it happens QUITE frequently. The Saturday night that we traveled from Marseille back to Paris, we arrived at the main terminal around 11. It was only when we went to catch our subway train back to Valerie and Benoit’s that we realized there were no trains to catch. The tunnel we were standing in was abandoned. We went to another tunnel, one with a train, but it was going the wrong direction so we went back upstairs. That’s when it dawned on us that the entire country’s public transportation workers were in the middle of a dispute, and therefore NOT WORKING. They had only certain lines running very infrequently (unfortunately the signs explaining which lines were running were in French), but we managed to navigate our way back to the house (we feel it was only luck that we traveled on the night of a rugby match, and so likely most trains were devoted to traveling in that direction, also the direction of our place). It was crazy, but kind of fun in a “so this is what it’s like to be Parisian” way.
Alas, when it dawned on us that the strike was not going to end by Monday, we got a little worried. Even the night buses were not running, but Sunday night Benoit helped us determine the early morning schedule for the few running trains. The website showed trains leaving at 5:11am and 5:26am, either of which would allow just enough time for us to catch our bus. We got to the train station around 4:45 and watched one of the slowest clocks I’d ever seen. It had bright green hands, and every time the second hand passed the 12, the minute hand clunked over one notch with a shake. It was nerve-wracking not knowing if the train was going to arrive, but finally 5:11 came. The train, however, did not. After that, the once slow clock moved with lightning speed. The second hand twirled around the face of the clock so fast that we could no longer see it, and the minute hand flew toward 5:30 at a sound-barrier-breaking pace. At 5:26, the second train arrived and we made it no problem. No wait, that’s what we wanted to happen. Actually, the train did NOT arrive, and we thought we might have to move in with Valerie and Benoit permanently. Luckily for us, though, Benoit had offered a backup plan that saved our train-missing hides. He volunteered to wake up and drive us to the bus station if the trains did not run. We felt terribly bad, but relieved, when he showed up at the train station to take us. So, thanks to him, we made our bus, and plane, and made it safely to Porto.
Now, what everyone came here for… things we have learned in France.
1) If someone walks up to you speaking French (usually in the form of a question) you can say “Zhe no par-lay-pah fraw-say”… but usually the dumbfounded lack of understanding on your face is enough to tell them you don’t have any idea what they’re talking about.
2) A half liter (litre) of coke costs 2 euros, a liter of wine costs 1.50.
3) If you go to Marseille, you may be tempted to look at the sights of old buildings and ports, but it is advisable to spend half of your sight-seeing on the sidewalks in front of you. You will see many “sights” that the stray dogs have left behind in hopes you will step in them.
4) If your hotel costs less than every other hotel in town, do not be surprised if there are holes in walls or people yelling at each other. In fact, just plan on watching the yelling people through the holes in the walls, and call it French Theatre.
5) In Paris a strawberry milkshake at McDonald’s costs 1 euro and in Marseille it’s 2.20, so you’re better off opting for the 1 euro ice cream cone. But either way an internet café is 3-4 euros an hour, so if you can handle the calories, McD’s wi-fi is the way to go.
6) If you thought libraries could be boring, just try going into a library where the books are not in English and don’t have pictures. That’s right, picture-less French books. Yawn.
7) If you go to Marseille, do not, under any circumstances, no matter how many guidebooks you read, and even if you can get in for one euro because you’re a student, think that it is a good idea to visit the Musee de Histoire de Marseille. Worst. Museum. Ever….and finally…
8) You NEED, MUST HAVE, a Valerie and Benoit. The trip wouldn’t have been near the success it was without these lovely people. As Benoit would say…the point is… the Country of Origin.
