Extraordinary Events

Ok, warning... this will be long but hopefully very entertaining.

-Exiting the TGV from Aix en Provence a lady allowed her miniature poodle to fall through the crack between the train and the platform. The scene was hilarious. The French are notorious for their love of dogs and the obscene pampering they allow with their precious pooches. I thought it was rather hilarious, but as the crowd behind me passed the situation, I heard mainly gasps and Oh-la-la’s. I wish I were joking. Wait, no I don’t, it’s freaking hilarious. As I passed by I noticed the lady and a TGV worker squatting down next to the train. I thought it odd; maybe she lost a bag in the crack, a wallet, her phone, something trivial but worth getting at. Then I noticed the leash. I stopped as the lady and the TGV worker hoisted the dog out from the crevasse and the look on the dogs face said it all. I mean I don’t blame it! If I was its size and dropped into a crack that small I would FLIP. Plus, just thinking about what that poor lady was thinking makes it even funnier. ‘What if the train starts! Or shifts! Or Slides. Oh no! Mon pouvre chien!!’ I know it’s kind of jacked up making fun of the situation but when you are traveling by yourself in a nation completely void of any English (written or spoken), you take advantage of every possibility for entertainment.

-The thing about all of these stories is they happened in one day: my LAST day in France, which makes it even funnier.
However, Humor and Panic were companions on this day. After I acquired a sandwich at the Gare de Lyon I wandered around the Gare for a few minutes, chewing and swallowing, the whole eating deal. Then I realized that my train wasn’t on the departures board. Mistake number one. I had misread my ticket. All of the times I looked at it I had only checked to make sure of my departure and arrival times. Even though I have been to Paris several times before, I completely forgot that there are about three or four train stations in Centre Ville. My train arrived at Paris Gare de Lyon and departed at Paris Gare Nord with about an hour and half between. “No problem,” I thought to myself. “I can totally do this. I’m pro at the whole metro thing.”
So I inquired at the information counter for directions with my signature phrase ‘Excusez-moi, parlez-vous anglais?’, because my French is so horrible, descended into the Paris underground and encountered the first complication to mistake number one. I have no clue which ticket to buy. The English translation isn’t working on the billet automatique and I don’t have a large enough vocabulary to ask someone how to work the infernal thing. So I do what any even keeled traveler does: I stare at the screen for 15 minutes making up my mind. At this point I have about an hour until departure so I am still pretty calm. I get the ticket, which I still don’t know if it was right one, and descend to the correct voie (track); I then doubt that I chose the correct voie, go back up, then back down to the same one and stare at the metro map for the third time. I am working off of pure genius and intuition at this point. I thought to myself, “So what if I let a few trains go by, they probably were the wrong ones anyways. I am totally good.” Honestly, the tough part of the whole situation was knowing whether or not the trains stop at every stop. The signs didn’t specify, so like I said, my only choice was to rely on intuition. I got on the next train going in the direction that my stop was and held my breath. I was correct. Thank God they don’t make metro’s difficult or else I would have been late, even might have missed my train.
But wait! There’s more!!
I get to Paris Gare Nord and settle down, I still have about forty-five minutes left and looking good. My train is on the departures list and it is not early. Great. So, I wander around for some time and end up leaning against a pole to take the weight off of my shoulders (I have your standard hiking backpack, holding about 35 pounds worth of clothes and my Chrome bag with computer and a multitude of accessories). After a few moments a pretty girl came up to me and said, “Excuse me, do you speak English,” with her gold fillings twinkling from her mouth. Excited to speak English to anybody, I said yes and she proceeded to place a card out in front of me. Badly spelled and incoherent, this girl was supposedly from Bosnia, with a mother who was dead and a brother with “luchymea” (I read it as leukemia). She wanted money to have something to eat.
The thing with people who do this is you never know why they need the money or what they are going to do with it. Most likely this girl was just trying to make a living illegally, but there are a multitude of other possibilities. I try to be as generous as my budget will allow me. I have been convicted in the past that the compassionate but not ignorant trust that it requires to give money to people who ask for it reflects the character of Christ.
So, I reach into my pocket. I have a few 2 Euro coins lying around and grapple with one of them, as a French policemen walks up behind this girl, wagging his finger at me like a does mom with a bad child. I immediately laughed to myself and looked the girl in the eyes and said, “sorry.” She tried to mutter a response but it was broken off short by the cop who spoke something into her ear and she whipped around. From that point I was strictly an observer.
They pulled her and her friend who was on the other side of the station over to the side and began an in depth discussion. I watched until the ordeal was over and then started walking around again. Half an hour, sweet I’ll be home soon. Next thing I know it’s thirteen minutes until departure and they still have displayed the voie for my train… Mistake number two: I completely forgot that you have to go through customs when you enter into a different country… Derrrrrrrrrrr.
So I go ask the nearest person where the Eurostar departure area is, run up, tear through customs, throw in my bags to the X-ray machine, walk through the metal detector and BEEP BEEP. Oh my God. I walk back through and take out my keys. Ok good to go. BEEP BEEP. Grrrrrrr. Take off my watch. Ok, NOW I am good to go. BEEP BEEP. GAAAAH!!! I check both pockets and completely forgot about my ipod, so I pull it out, walk through completely beep free and run to the departure area. I made it. Sweaty and freaked out, but barely on-time.
I know someone is praying for travel grace for me, so thank you.