I dropped Kaitlyn off at the sitter’s house this morning and then I headed downtown to the train station… to start the big adventure I’ve probably been driving everyone nuts talking about: my big trip to Paris.
I had my first class ticket on the TGV. It featured a screaming baby in the car and a broken tray-table at my seat. Perfect.
I learned that if you are on a train in France and it is lunchtime, don’t wait to eat. At noon the line stretched nearly all the way out of the food car. I could see the line from my seat. I finally gave up and joined it. I stood there for 20 minutes only to find out they were out of anything worth eating. So I bought a cold sandwich. It wasn’t really very good, nor was it fun to eat without a little table, but by the time I got the food I was really hungry.
When we got to Paris, I decided the line for the taxi was too long. It should not take as long to get a taxi as the entire train ride took. So I figured I could figure out the Metro. How hard could it be? Not too bad. Although every time I get on a train, I worry I’m on the wrong one going the wrong way. Once I realized I was headed toward my hotel, I realized I had no idea where to go once I got off and out of the station. Turns out, the hotel is across the street. Even I couldn’t miss that.