Day 81: Ste Luce to a train to Paris and Amsterdam

October 7, 2013

Michel and Jeannette were up early, again putting a lovely French meal on the table. We know that when we ha-ve guests we enjoy doing this too, but this does not make us any less grateful for the effort, and the hospitality we have been shown.

At first we thought these cookies in our room were part of the artful decor, but in fact Michel and Jeannette had bought them for us. This part of France is "cookie central", so this was again showing (giving) us something typical of the region.

It was a bittersweet goodbye. We had quickly gotten used to having Michel beside us with the trike, and now we were heading off alone again. However, just to be going out on the bikes after one whole day off (except for a 7 km spin) felt great. With this day's rest I think if we were now going the 800 km up the Loire it would be fine.

Goodbye Michel and Jeannette! Thanks for everything!

In fact, we were only going the 12 km to the train station. In the dark, the little roads from Michel's house were a little confusing, but we had been well trained by Michel in our practice ride the day before, to be able to find and follow the Loire into town.

In the end, finding our track and and car and getting the bikes in and secured was no more difficult than on any other European train. That is, it was a bug to fight the bikes up the stairs of the car, turn a corner, two more stairs, fold away the seats1 disgusing the spots reserved for the bikes, figure out how to secure them, deal with other passengers with luggage to put in our way, and find our own seats. All par for the course.

The real challenge and fun should come in Paris. There we have to leave Montparnasse station and cycle 7 km through downtown to find Gare du Nord. There, it's disassemble and fold the bikes, get them into their new made from garbage carry bags, find the trackmand car, etc etc. Maybe by the time you read this, younwill onlynhave tomlook to the next paragraph to have it all happen (or not), but as we write this on the TGV to Paris, how it will go is up in the air. One thing, whether in a panic or not, itmwill be fun to be back in the streets of Paris!

Paris! The romance of the place is palpable. We wheeled out of the Montparnasse station directly into the world of elegant medium rise buildings, cafes, bakeries, restaurants of all types, and people of al races and types.

Downtown Paris traffic is actually quite reasonable, making the city fairly livable. We had learned from last time, though, that this is no place for the timid or the weak. Whether on the sidewalk or the road you have to be decisive, look for your opening, and take it - without fear or hesitation. The other rule, if you lose out and get cut off, stepped in front of, or run off tbe road, acceptthat youngot beat, dust off, and get back in there. Dodie is mostly good at these rules, but seems to get into one altercation each time out in Paris traffic. Usually the culprit is a big black car. This time it was a black BMW, that got pounded on. At next intersection, before we could execute any further Impolite actions, the driver gave us the finger and sped off. So he won, 2-1, a cutoff and finger to one pounding on the windows.

Traffic aside, or traffic included, it was glorious. And when we reached the Seine, with the bridges and boats and stately buildings all around, it was more than glorious.This always brings to mind for us the words of the Judy Collins song, My Father.

My father always promised us That we would live in France We'd go boating on the Seine And I would learn to dance

We got lost a few times after that, but there was no chance or need to look at the GPS or other materials, because people were always ready to help.

At the Gare du Nord things deteriorated a bit. The information booth was unstaffed, there were no available carts, no ready info about what track our train would leave from. So we just found a semi quiet corner (after a fight about which corner was semi quieter) and set about disassembling our bokes and lives. We got it done and the bikes in their housses, securely tied with thin twine, just in time for a hoard of people to magically appear and begin migrating down the track.

Dodie had spotted some kind of small cleaner's cart, and we grabbed that, and then one more, discarding the full garbage bags and spare toilet paper rolls. Only with these could we move all our stuff and two houssed disabled bikes the two miles (ok 500 meters) down the track to our cars. Dodie wheeled the little carts and I dragged the hapless bikes.

At the car, the hopelessly inadequate luggage racks had no chance of holding our housses plus all the myriad other luggage of the other passengers. So we put the housses in the exitway on the unused (not platform) side. A conductor came and gave us grief about that, but we stood firm. Eventually he backed off, on condition we would come at the Brussels stop to make sure the exit was clear, in case the Brussels platform would be on that side. Fair enough.

There had been no time to pick up food a the station, and we anticipated a very hungry several hours. But not only could you buy sandwiches on board, but the baguettes that they were based on were the best ever.

So as I write this now, we have passed Brussels and are on the way to Antwerp. So far, so good!

We don't find the TGV looks trustworthy. Dodie thinks it looks like an alligator. But, this alligator got us to Paris!

Not sure if this is at all high fashion, but it's what we saw in the first clothing store we encountered.

These classic buildings are really everywhere in Paris

More Paris people. We would of course guess this to be a visiting business group.

Random people crossing the street. Dodie's fashion choices seem to clash a bit!

Ön the train, there is no room for the bikes on the luggage racks.

At each of the city stops, I went to the baggage rack area to make sure our bikes were not in the way of people entering and exiting. It worked out well, but we certainly could not say that this French train was in any way bike friendly. At Amsterdam, we bundled the bikes and all our stuff out onto the platform and set about putting our lives back together. The housses got rolled up and after consultation with the conductors, taken to the garbage. Thanks housses!

We made it, and more importantly, the bikes made it

Then we were out of the station and back in Amsterdam! The only thing, unlike with Paris, our reaction was not a flood of positive thoughts and fond memories. For some reason, right off the bat the smokers, the cluttery parked bikes, and the zooming bikes in motion were too much for us, and made us a little crabby. With this mindset we considered our options for a place to stay. Since it was 6 p.m., going out to the hotel at the airport, or the camping there would have resulted in night riding. I could also tell that Dodie was very tired, and probably had about 15 minutes left on her clock before coming to a complete stop. So these are the conditions for finds a hotel, right now.

Amsterdam station, by the (naturally) closed tourist information.

The only thing, the first hotel we tried, by the train station, wanted about 200 euros and had no provision for our bikes. The next one wanted only 70 euros, but had neither room nor provision for our bikes, and the next four were way too confined to even think about them and bikes in the same universe.

I could just about hear the clock ticking on a dodie bonk, so asked a passerby for hotel advice. Go to the train station area was the advice. I tried another person. They recommended going back to the station area, ditching the bikes in a guarded bike garage and then going to find one of the small hotels.

We carried on for a bit. The clock ticked. I tried one more person. They felt we were now too far from the centre of town to find any hotel. At this point a young man came up and said he had heard the interchange and that a hotel near his house could fit the bill. Since he and his girlfriend were heading home, we could cycle with them.

These road angels were Guus and Ralitsa, and the kind of people who make you feel really good about the world and the future. They lead us to a hotel that was exactly what we needed. Large, clean, and with a locked parking garage. They also pointed out that the hotel had a restaurant and that less than a km away was a street with lots more restaurants. We thanked them for their kindness, and shook hands.

But Guus and Ralitsa turned it all around!

As we stood at the hotel check in, Guus reappeared. Would we like to join them at their house for dinner? Guus aranged to come back in 40 minutes to show us to their place.

The place, elegantly and sparingly furnished, was a condo in a heritage building nearby. Guus and Ralitsa are interested in travel, in design, in photography, and in cycling. While Guus was born here, Ralitsa is from Bulgaia, from the Black Sea shore. Our conversation ranged over all kinds of crazy topics, from best before dates on foods to the effective resolution of 35 mm film. How fortunate for us to meet such an interesting pair, and how fortunate that they started out by saving us from wandering the Amsterdam streets in the dark!

What had started as a not so great return to Amsterdam ended as something we will fondly remember!

Guus making coffee with his unique siphon system, and coffee brought back from Cuba by his parents.

Today's ride: 12 km (7 miles)
Total: 5,424 km (3,368 miles)

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