Riding the rails and telling tales.
Caveat: I’m like SUPER behind on posting. Today’s the day I make up for that. You’re welcome!
In the last post I promised to stop talking shit about the French. Yes, I realized that hasn’t happened yet. But as you know I was recently the victim of a spontaneous wealth redistribution. Cut me a fucking break!!
I’d be lying if I said I didn’t shed a few tears on the train to Paris. It’s not the money, it just really hurt my feelings. Sometimes I wonder if I’m attracted to sociopaths. So many wonderful people love and care about me, I shouldn’t take something like this personally but it’s hard not to. I hope he uses the money to do something nice for someone else. Robbed by a young tenderoni in the south of France. I’ll tell you one thing for sure, I’m certainly not bored.

My train eventually came to a stop and I noticed everyone had gotten off. As I wandered into the station I made a horrible discovery. I was NOT in Paris. To this day I don’t know where I was but I knew I needed to get to Gare de Lyon Station. I eventually made my way to the customer service desk only to realize my phone had died. I immediately broke out in tears. In my non-French I managed to request to charge my phone behind the service desk. Eventually I was able to charge it enough to pull up the email confirmation my ticket and explain that I needed to get the Lyon station in time to make me 12 pm flight. The attendant informed me that a train was leaving in 10 minutes but I’d have to purchase another ticket to board. I mumbled some incoherent shit and then made a beeline for the platform. Ticket be damned, I’m not missing that train! I make my way to the train and look for a sparsely populated car. RER trains have assigned seats and I’ll definitely get busted if I steal someone’s space. Eventually I find a half empty car and take a seat. I immediately start working on my excuse for the conductor who’ll inevitably be coming around to check my ticket. At this point it’s 8:30 am and I still have four hours to make my flight. I try to get some sleep but can’t seem close my eyes long enough to catch a few winks. I can’t shake the feeling that something is wrong. About an hour into the ride I realize I haven’t eaten or drank anything all morning so I head to the snack car. Turns out they can’t take my debit card because it doesn’t have that stupid security chip. Sofiane couldn’t be bothered to leave me €5 so I guess I’ll just be thirsty for the next hour!!!

Eventually the train pulls into my station and I get off. I’m flying out of the smaller Orly Sud airport which should be about a 30 minute taxi ride away. I make my way out to the taxi line and pull out my phone double check the length of the drive. I then make the most terrible discovery of the day. Something must have gotten lost in translation during my tear filled convo with the attendant at the last station because I’m in Lyon, France (near the Swiss boarder) NOT Gare de Lyon Station in PARIS. It’s 10 am and I’m further from the airport than I was in Sete. I’m going to miss my fucking flight. According toGoogle Maps there’s a train leaving at 10:30 am but I won’t get to Paris until 12:30 pm. I decide to call the airline while I’m waiting for the next train. There are only two flights a day from Paris to Istanbul. I can still make the 4:30 pm. The ticket is €350!!! I’m not paying that much when I already have a ticket! I’ll deal with this shit once I get to Paris.

It’s 10:44 am on Wednesday. At this point I’ve been riding trains pretty much non-stop for the past 5+ hours. I can’t buy water because these French fucks won’t take my chipless card. I haven’t slept in almost 48 hours. I’ve already cried twice today AND I was robbed! I am not having a good day. That said, God bless the French for letting me ride so many trains without anyone ever checking my ticket. I am officially done talking shit about them. Startiiiiiing now.

The train to Paris was crowded as Fuck. I couldn’t find a car with enough empty seats so I tried sitting in random places. After being asked to move from three people’s seats I realized there was only one thing to do. I had to find a conductor and confess my sins. I wandered from car to car until I finally found someone who spoke English. As I began explaining things to him I immediately start crying (apparently this is what I do now). He took pity on me, sat me in an empty seat and told me I didn’t have to pay. God bless you Mister French Conductor! Eventually our trains comes to a stop so I exit onto the platform. I bump into Mister French Conductor who tells me this isn’t my stop unless I want to take a super long taxi ride to Orly Sud. I re-board the train but can’t find my same seat so I end up sitting amongst a bunch of French businessmen in what I later learn is first class (I didn’t find this seat, it found me!). One of the business dudes was kind enough to explain that we’d stopped early because a bird hit the windshield and they had to replace the first car. We still have another hour to go before we hit Paris. Why lawd?! WHYYYYYYYY??????
Eventually we get to Paris. I make a beeline for the taxi stand only find there are ZERO cabs. Seriously. Not a single one. I then ask 10 different people which bus to take to the airport and get 10 different responses. Eventually I find the right bus and (after waiting for an hour) realize I don’t even have the €2 euros to board. Luckily a kindly father of 3 purchased my ticket (he was probably tired of listening to me whine more than his kids). It’s now 2:30 pm and I’m at risk of missing the 4:30 flight too. I get to Orly Sud at 3:30 pm. I tell the guy at the Pegasus Airline ticket my counter my take of woe and he sorrowfully informs me that I won’t be allowed to board this late and even if he could I’d have to buy a new ticket (which now costs €500!!). The next available flight isn’t until the following day at 12:30 pm. Sounds like I might be spending a night in Paris.

I stood there defeated for (probably) longer than I should have. Do I start texting friends for a place to stay? Should I book an Airbnb? Do I even feel like dealing with any of this shit anymore?! At this point I realize I’m either going to Istanbul today or I’m going back home. In an almost trancelike state I whip out my phone and find the last remaining direct flight to Istanbul. It leaves from Charles De Gaulle (on the opposite side of the city) in 3 hours. I’m not even going to tell you how much it costs. (What I will tell you is I’m absolutely going to have to find a job first thing when I get home. Either that or sell one of my kidneys.) I run out to the taxi and again find myself on the verge of tears as I explain the situation. The driver tells me the police strictly regulate airport taxi pickups. He can take me to the other airport but not from the arrivals side. He asks me to head back into the airport and meet him on the other side at departures. At this point I’m incredibly frustrated. I’m too sad, tired, hungry to navigate any where right now. Despite this I head back into the airport and try to find my way to departures. Why didn’t I learn to speak French ahead of this trip?! The language barrier is really screwing me over right now. I made it about half way through the airport when I notice someone approach me from the side, reaching for my bag. It’s the taxi driver! He leads me to arrivals and puts my bag in the car while I quickly grab something to eat (finally!).

My taxi driver’s name is Rahim and he is cool as fuck (and also possibly a guardian angel). He’s French-Moroccan, loves Tupac and is flirting hard. I’m stuffing my face with a baguette sandwich and spilling crumbs all over his backseat as I try to book this flight on my phone. I receive the flight confirmation just as we pull up to the airport. Rahim helps me with my bag and we hug good bye before I run into the airport. I get to the check-in counter and am told they don’t have my reservation in the system. WHAT??!! I have to go to the ticket counter. As I get in line I notice a sign that says the ticket counter closes 60 minutes before each flight. It’s now 6:27 pm. My flight leaves at 7:30 pm. Ohmigod, hurry up guy in front of me! I was literally about to violently shove him out of the way when the woman at the counter hands him his ticket and he leaves of his own volition. I hurriedly explain my situation and am told that my ticket is for tomorrow night, not today but they can check for an empty seat. Seriously. I’m either getting on this plane now or I’m flying back to New York. There is no third option. I can’t handle any more of this shit.
Is this is the end of the road for our brave heroine? Is this how it ends? Will I sleep on the floor of this airport? Am I gonna have to choke a bitch?! The answers to these questions and more in our next installment.
