October 24, 2021
Travel day: Bordeaux to Paris
although of course you end up becoming yourself
Doing nothing feels great. I should do it more often.
I'm going to make this short, because A: there's not much to write about, and B: it's getting late. The latter has never stopped me before, but we're playing by different rules in the post-tour landscape.
Two mornings ago, I asked Susan if she could check to see whether her neighborhood bike shop has any empty boxes. By the end of the day, she had sent me a photo of a big beautiful box that was sitting in her apartment. At that moment, the worry that was just beginning to form about logistics simply melted away. Sure, it was only one box, but it meant that a second box was likely to surface during the week. More importantly, I was reminded that we have a real ally in Paris, someone who is willing to use her local knowledge and experience to help us figure things out.
This motivated me to find accommodations in the 15th Arrondissement. I located a hotel/hostel, asked about bike storage, received a positive response, and booked it based on a hunch that they would be tolerant of a dude sitting in a corner somewhere taking a couple of bikes apart to pack for shipping.
So with these pieces already in place, we spent this morning relaxing and slowly packing our panniers. When we checked out of the hotel, the air was tolerably warm. We stopped quickly at a market to buy a couple items for lunch and then ate them in front of the train station.
We entered the station 45 minutes before departure. While we waited for our platform assignment, I scouted the elevator situation. It seemed that all platforms except one were on the lower level. We should've played the odds and taken our bikes downstairs to wait further. Instead, when the platform was called just 20 minutes before departure, we raced to the elevator, descended one bike at a time, then found ourselves at the end of the boarding line. They were checking everyone for a pass sanitaire, which slowed the whole process, until time ran short and they let the rest of us slide. While waiting, we realized that we'd have to carry our bikes and gear up a flight of stairs to the platform. We did this as quickly and efficiently as possible. When we reached the platform, the lady who was checking tickets admonished us: "You should have arrived earlier!" What?!?! We got here 45 minutes early! You should have had a platform announcement 10 minutes earlier! Anyway, we had no time to argue. All I could think about was the weight of all these panniers slung over my shoulders. All I could do was push forward through the crowd, looking to the right every few seconds to read carriage numbers. The platform buzzed with nervous energy. We had no time to lose. It felt like it took forever to reach number 18, the last car on the train.
There was a short line to board the carriage. We breathed a sigh of relief. They wouldn't leave without us. When our turn came, we hurtled head-first into the compartment, gripping our bikes tightly in a way that said, "we're not kidding around here, the bikes are coming on to this train whether you all like it or not."
A few more people squeezed in behind us, creating pressure for us to get our bikes stowed. We looked in front of us and saw a huge mound of baggage where the bikes were supposed to go! Before we could unfreeze from our momentary panic, the lady behind us took control of the situation, firmly commanding the owners of this baggage to collect their belongings and stow them elsewhere. One by one, people obeyed the order, sheepishly approaching us to help clear the way. The last hurdle was a cello in a hard case. We worked with the owner to set the instrument aside temporarily. We moved our bikes, then secured the cello case to our bikes with a bungee cord.
With that crisis handled, we settled in to our seats, conveniently located just across from the bikes. The rest of the ride went smoothly. At Montparnasse, the platform had an elevator, so no heavy lifting was required. Finding the station was a little tricky, but once we spotted daylight, everything fell into place and we quickly arrived at our hotel.
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The hotel has plenty of space for our bikes and for bike boxes. We haven't told them about the boxes yet. Let's keep it a secret for now. We also felt that it was a good omen when we entered our room and found this print hanging on the wall:
We were excited to meet Susan for dinner. We snacked on bread, cheese, walnuts, and grapes while we waited for our chosen restaurant to open. We shared stories about our tours. We asked Susan a lot of questions about some of the things we observed during our tour. We had also wondered about how she carried the bike box from the shop to her apartment, and the answer is: she carried it. Wow. That's really going the extra mile!
Dinner was excellent. We shared more stories. We returned to Susan's for dessert. She showed us her impressive bike bag setup, and we started to make plans to hang out more during the week. Yay!
It still hasn't completely registered with me that the tour is over. For now, the only further bike news will revolve around packing and transporting them. We have a tradition of reassembling our bikes in Seattle and riding them home, so you can tune in for that bit of drama. I'll do short daily reports of our time as foot-tourists for completeness' sake.
Today's ride: 3 km (2 miles)
Total: 2,875 km (1,785 miles)
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3 years ago
What a train ride! We, too, have had many nerve frazzling train-with-bike adventures in France. Yours is a good one for a potenial collection!
How nice that you could meet Susan again. Looks like you had a lovely evening.
3 years ago