I couldn't sleep last night. So much for the inhalation therapy thought. I've always had problems sleeping before a trip. I'm always thinking I'm not going to get to the airport on time. Beth used to drive me crazy, because when we went on trips we always seem to have the airplane door closing just after we got on board. I have to admit we never missed a flight, but I was always having a "heart-attack" about missing one. I switched gears a few years ago and told Beth the plane was leaving half hour before it really was leaving. She caught on to that pretty quick, so she was asking what time was the plane really leaving. That was Beth, never in a hurry, we'd get there sooner or later. Maybe I should have picked up some of that patience over the years.
I scoot the big bag down the steep stairs, I almost lost it a couple of times. I leave it at that office with Chris, who is in the office today. Both David and he have been fabulous. My room is always made up, clean and always a new treat everyday. Two days ago it was a box of turtles, yesterday was a new basket of fruit.
I'm on my way. I know the route to the train station because I scoped it out a couple of days ago. I already have my ticket, coach #1, which is like business class. So, I get to sit in the the executive lounge while waiting for the train. I'm here two hours ahead of time, of course. Hey, something might of happened along the way. I could have been accosted by one of the super women in the red lighted phone booths. Or, not paid attention and fallen into one of the many canals along the sidewalks. Maybe, okay...I admit it it I'm a bit anal about getting to the train or airport on time.
I start down 20 minutes before the train is due to leave. I wanted to be sure I would have enough time to find Gate 12-A. Well once I got to the platform, no train, apparently it hasn't arrived yet. Plus there are only two other people on the platform....its 15 minutes before the train is due to leave. About five minutes before the train is due to leave people come pouring on to the train platform. You better get here you almost missed the train!
Once the sleek looking bullet train gets here people are scurrying to get on. I make it on and the train is already gearing up for its departure. I bet it stayed no longer than 60 seconds and boarded at least a hundred people. I find my seat. It is like a super wide lounge chair. There are two seats on the right side and only one on the left side. I get to sit on the left side, good no one next to me.
Not more than 5 minutes have passed and the train is going about 50-60 MPH throughout the city of Amsterdam. About then a cart is coming through serving breakfast, coffee and pastries. It was a thick fat vegetable omelet, fresh fruit, OJ and coffee. Once breakfast is served. they come through with free newspapers and magazines...is that a USA Today? Every 10 minutes they were back through freshening up drinks. Well now that would put any of our American airlines and trains to shame.
We are now in the Dutch farm lands. They look so perfectly organized: fences, corrals , even the animals seem to be grazing in a perfect pattern. By now, the train has zoomed up to 200 MPH, damn everything is passing by so fast, its just a blur.
Our first stop is Rotterdam. It's really foggy outside so its hard to see anything about the city. We pass the Dutch border and head into Belgium, hey lets stop and get my I-Pad! First stop, Antwerp, on gets a family with four boys stair stepped in age up to about 8 years old. And they are loud and rambunctious. The mother keeps shushing them, but they are not listening. Of course, one is in the seat in front of me. The other three are across the aisle in the next two rows with their mom and dad. I get lucky, I guess, because the kid in front of me didn't take his eyes off an I-Pad with cartooons the entire next two hours to Paris. Hey is that myI-Pad?
The next stop is Brussels. The sun has come out, probably only the second time I've seen the sun all week. The landscape is full of very modern and sleek business buildings. There is no old classic architecture like in Amsterdam. Everything here seems to be very new glass and steel structures. The boys are still anxious and bored. I notice that several businessmen have picked up and move to another car. I just put on my ear buds and turned up the volumne.
We hit the French border soon afterward. I remember when I visited the farmland and country side the last time I was in France. Each little village is centered by a large church, with its high steeple, surrounded then by its population of small quaint homes. Like a mother swan looking over her ducklings. The landscape is much like what I've seen the last two hours, very green landscape with its perfectly straight rows of farm products.
The carts come back out, and now they are serving lunch, just 2 hours after having breakfast. I decide to have a vegetarian meal since I'm really pretty full. I think the other dishes are either chicken or steak, pretty big portions. I have a great carrot salad, mixed vegetables, hot baked potato and croissants. The attendant asks if I would like something to drink, I say sure a merlot of cabernet. The stare from the attendant was like I had ordered acid. She says in a very perfect French accented English. "This is a French train and we only serve Bordeaux". Well excuse me, hit me with some of that French stuff. Superb service, aside from the wine snottiness, my compliments to Thayls Train Sytem.
Also today is a special day, I can stop taking my malaria pills. I had to take them a week before I went to the Amazon, during the trip, and a week after I left Brazil. I wonder if I need to take them before I go to Africa. I'll have to look that up tonight.
No more stops until we roll into Paris. We arrive at Paris Nord Station right on the button on time wise. I was reading a statistic in the executive lounge where the train system was 96.2 % on time in 2013. The Paris train station is as big as Amsterdam Centraal, but lacks the style and decorum of the Dutch station. I walk out to catch an Uber, but can't seem to find one in the area. I look up the address of where I will be staying and its only 1.2 miles away. No biggie should take me about 10 minutes to get there. I try and call the host of the place where I'm staying and can't get an answer, so I leave an email announcing I'm on my way. Well the 10 minute walk took over 35 minutes because its all up hill. The last 15 minutes was like walking up Nob Hill in San Francisco. I'd visited Montmartre, over 20 years ago, but forgot about the hills. As I was walking I noticed how dirty and trashy it was all the way from the train station until about the last 10 minutes as we got closer to Sacre Coeur, I'll talk about that place in the next couple of days.
I finally climb the last two steeped street blocks. I get to 13 Rue Calle, a great location, right in the art district and literally just steps to the famous Sacre Coeur. No one is here, door is locked. I call the number again, no answer. I notice nothing on my email. I try and call my travel agent in Tulsa, but can't get a line out. I always seem to have trouble how many 0's and 1's you are suppose to dial to call the US. I leave her an email. Just about the time I pressed send to my travel agent I get a call, hooray, its the host. She says she didn't know if I was going to show up. Really? You have my $580E already as a pre-pay for this place. She says she can't get away from where she is and her husband can get there until around 7PM. Thats 4 HOURS from now. She insists its not her fault, she tried to get ahold of me but I never returned her calls. I ask what number she used...it was the travel agent's. She called, apparently, on Sunday. Lady, don't you know travel agents don't work on Sunday, but I wonder why my agent didn't call yesterday, Monday. I'm pissed at everyone. My travel agent emails me and says she spoke to the host, everything was fine now. Uh, did she tell you no one will be here for 4 hours. Okay try and remain calm. I grab my stuff and head down hill to a sidewalk cafe. I stick around there for 4 hours and try and slow play a Cobb Salad and three glasses of ...Bordeaux. I wouldn't want to insult anyone, though there was a California Merlot on the menu. The guys at the cafe didn't seem to mind, it was pretty slow until about 6PM anyway. While I was sitting eating my salad, there was definitely a couple of gay gentlemen arguing about their relationship. It was all in French except the s and the f bombs, which was about every other word. I think they were breaking up. The owner had to come by every so often and quite them down. It was pretty entertaining.
Okay, time to climb back up the hill to await the hubby. About 7:10 PM still no one. I send a message and leave a voice mail, I'm really hot now. Then all of the sudden the hubby appears from inside the door and introduces himself as Justin. He has very broken English but I'm getting the gist of what he is saying. He says he has been there since 6PM. Okay why didn't you call to tell me. Oh yeah you called the travel agent number. Okay, all I want to do is get in my place, cool down and rest my now weary self. Looks like a lot of construction going on around the 6 apartments in the courtyard area. Door opens...OMG this place is a dump. Its even worse than the Rio nightmare. Okay, let's try and be calm. The place is one big room but smaller than the place in Amsterdam, that now looks like the Taj Mahal compared to this place. I see the kitchen, okay not bad, coffee machine with coffee t-cups, that'll work. bathroom newly remodeled, hope the hot water works. Wait a minute where is the bedroom? He pulls out this old green couch into a bed. The mattress is like a thin wafer. He finds a mattress pad that isn't much thicker and makes up the "bed". At his point, get the f--- out and let me see how I can improve this situation. So the AIRBNB is batting 1 out of 3 so far, great if you are a baseball player. While I was waiting for hubby it started to get real chilly. I checked weather.com and it was 48 and suppose to get down to 42 tonight. I brought with me the light jacket and thick sweater, layers will probably work. But the room was really chilly. I ask about the heat which took a while for him to understand. He leaves and comes back with an old space heater. Really? So he cranks it up and guess what, the power goes off. The damn heater is probably a fire hazard. He goes back outside and gets the power back up. Now he is trying to do the travel agent part and tell me about what to visit. Dude, you don't know me well enough. I already have my 4 days planned out, so get the hell out of here.
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| Area Where I Am Staying, Montmartre. |
He finally leaves. Okay the bed isn't too bad but I can feel the springs in the couch when I roll over to my left, so its going to be a right side of the bed sleep night. Its been a long day so I decide to take a shower. Turn on the shower, hot water works good...no towels. Figures. I leave a message I have no towels, I get a message back it will be tomorrow before they can get here. Okay improvise, I grab a couple of t-shirts in my bag to dry myself, The shower helped a lot. Hopefully my frustration of the day went down the drain. Then I start to hear the noises of the other apartments around and on top of me, I'm right at the bottom of the stairs of the court yard. That means everyone upstairs will have to come down the staircase next to my apartment room. What is that noise above me sounds like someone is exercising and breathing very hard...they are not exercising. Wonderful, I have a couple of rabbits above me. I get out my best Ravi Shankar Ragas and turn it up to drown out the sinkopated beats from upstairs. Good news, I now have all my daily blogs caught up.
