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| This is what greeted me rising from my Metro station on the way to the hostel |
Story time. After getting off the plane and retrieving my luggage, I proceeded to stand in the SLOWEST currency exchange line EVER. Seriously, there were two people at the counter, and one ahead of me in line. I waited at least half an hour. You would think they were buying the damn crown jewels...
After changing my last $50 bill into 30€,21, I started searching for the entrance to the RER B. It wasn't just at the other end of the terminal. It was past the terminal, through 2 moving sidewalks and down 2 escalators - with both of my carry-ons and my 60 lbs suitcase, just in case I wasn't tired enough.
To purchase a ticket for the RER, you use a machine that dispenses the ticket. They draw you in with a simple interface to decide whether or not you have the rail pass card. The French seems pretty easy to understand, and I seem to understand it clearly. I can handle this. I need to learn.
I proceed with the options, which spiral from simple French to complex options and words I didn't understand. I found my way through it though, and finally got to the page to pay for my ticket. 9€,75. Sweet. I pull out my crisp 10€ bill and begin searching for a slot to feed it into. Nothing. Nada. Zip. I look back over the machine and see the icons indicating it only accepts 1€ and 2€ coin pieces and cards. Awesome. I only got bills. Looks like it's time to try out those travel notices on my debit card. I finally pay for my ticket, explode through the turnstyles (the luggage barely fit) and moved onto the platform.
Finally a train pulls up, but the call number on the display doesn't match the one on the platform's display. Weary at first, I hop on after about 10 minutes of trying to decided whether or not it was the right train. Looks like I'm already getting more adventurous. Thank goodness it was right and we started chugging towards the city center. As more people crammed into the car and my luggage and I got pushed into a back corner, I started hearing quiet chattering between the couple behind me. Unfamiliar looking houses and streets whirled past, broken only occasionally by a train station. I looked up to see an advert in the train car, struggling to read through all the French my crumbling vocabulary could support.
Surrounded by a foreign landscape, communicating with others in broken phrases even I barely understand, I couldn't help but smile. I even laughed a little. Sure this isn't my city, a culture I understand, or even one of my fluent languages - yet... I'm finally here, and I'm crazy enough that I just make it.
But for now, the internet café is closing down, and our hostel doesn't have any Wifi. Fail. I'm editing some more of my photos from today and they'll go up with the next leg of my massive Metro failure.... er.... adventure. You won't want to miss this one, almost too crappy to be true...
Expect more tomorrow. Bonne Nuit!
That sounds a lot like the train ticket machines in England. Trust me, even in ENGLISH they are hard to get through, especially immediately following a flight. If there is no option for English instructions next time, I really suggest asking some people around you how it works; watch for someone who breezes through all of the options with no hesitation. You remember how to say Parlez-vous anglais? Don't be afraid to use it if you really don't understand something and it is dealing with directions or money. Glad to hear your plane landed safely. Already looks like an amazing adventure!
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