Friday July 2
PARIS
Another 110F (44C) scorcher.
by kind courtesy of http://www.honeymoonlane.com/guide/paris/
But when we got out of the elevators at the top, the temperature was even hotter. Heat rises! Duh! And with not one single wisp of air in Paris, it felt like being baked alive in an oven.
Our expedited tour of the "Stifling Tower" took us less than an hour. Then we walked back to the Place de la Concorde. Sticking to the shadows helped lessen the sun's onslaught. But even though wearing only a sleeveless cotton dress, I was still uncomfortably hot.
by kind courtesy of by kind courtesy of
http://www.wusa9.com/images/640/360/2/assetpool/images/080606113826_heatwave.jpg
http://www.wusa9.com/images/640/360/2/assetpool/images/080606113826_heatwave.jpg
by kind courtesy of
Between fountains, the heat was so intense that my clothes literally steam-dried on my body. My watery antics shocked Donna. But I remained cool during most of our walk whilst she did not. C'est la vie!
We had both booked out of our Pension before embarking on our sightseeing tour that morning. And, as per usual, we'd stashed our backpacks in lockers at our departing station, and ascertained the correct time of our train away from Paris. We'd had MORE than enough of this city's unrelenting heat and were looking forward to leaving the sizzling capital by the 17.48 train to Luxembourg.
by kind courtesy of
Instead, we spent the remainder of that afternoon seeking the shade and relative coolness of porticos. We also sipped expensive cold drinks in as many air-conditioned establishments as we could find.
by kind courtesy of
With a heartfelt sigh of relief, Donna and I boarded an air-conditioned train and left Paris near suppertime. Arriving in Luxembourg a few hours later, we immediately sought out a hotel for a some much needed horizontal sleep.
http://vintage.johnnyjet.com/photos/Luxembourg-to-Frankfurt-Train-2009-1.jpg
Despite the late hour, since we expected to sleep on the train overnight, we treated ourselves to a huge spaghetti supper. But upon arrival at the station at midnight, we discovered that neither couchettes nor seats would be available. Much loud groaning ensued.
Saturday July 3
LUXEMBOURG - BASEL - TRIER - KOBLENZ
Our train was supposed to depart Luxembourg train station at 12.30am.
But it had been delayed. And we were unable to discover why.
To while away the waiting time at Luxembourg, I bought some beautiful stamps and wrote yet more postcards to friends and family.
But it had been delayed. And we were unable to discover why.
To while away the waiting time at Luxembourg, I bought some beautiful stamps and wrote yet more postcards to friends and family.
Two hours later, the train to Basel clanked noisily into the station at 2.30 am.
Apparently thieves had boarded the train further up the line, and the ensuing police inquiry had caused the cancellation of subsequent trains. Our lone train thus held three trains' worth of passengers, jostling cheek-by-jowl for standing room only.
Each 6-seat compartment was smoky (despite regulations), and crammed with 6 or more bodies. Windows were shut tight, and much loud snoring was heard. Still wearing my backpack, I found a tiny space for myself, wedged in the narrow corridor, dwarfed by big, burly men on all sides. I stood 5'3" in my stockinged feet. It didn't take much to dwarf me!
by kind courtesy of
At such times, it helped me to remember that daily conditions were a lot more stressful in other parts of the world. Having been born in India, I had heard the tales my parents told about trains being draped with people there.
In later years, I would travel to India with my Mother and see such sights for myself.
In later years, I would travel to India with my Mother and see such sights for myself.
Were I not already exhausted that night, the conditions of this inter-continental train might have irritated me. Instead, I made the happy discovery that one can, indeed, sleep standing up on a moving train - just not for an extended period of time.
by kind courtesy of
At Basel, Donna and I enjoyed a hearty breakfast, during which we missed our our original choice for our connection to Koblenz.
We thus caught the relatively empty Trans European Express (TEE) at 08.18 instead. This was a luxurious ride during which we reclined our seats, and slept till 10.45am. But a couple of hours of sleep did not quite refresh us after a hideous night of 'standing room only'.
At the suggestion of fellow-travellers, we changed to a smaller train in Koblenz, for a 'must see' 2-1/2 hour side-trip down the Mosel Wine Valley to see the Porta Nigra in Trier.
Some weeks later, we discovered that Trier is located less than five miles from the border of Luxembourg!
Because of our insistence on a hot shower,
we had travelled, often painfully,
for 18 further hours,
only to return to
within walking distance
of our
starting point
!?!
Evidently we'd needed to
get there via "the scenic route"
---...---...--- The Mind Boggles! ---...---...---
by kind courtesy of
Trier is famous for its Porta Nigra, which was one of four city gates, constructed during ancient Roman times. The graphic shows the existing "Black Gate" (in dark grey) and the rest of the structure, as it looked when built between 186 and 200 AD.
Once our train had pulled into the station at 4pm, we both raced out to see the sites.
by kind courtesy of
http://carverphoto.wordpress.com/2011/03/03/kunstgeschichte/
Once our train had pulled into the station at 4pm, we both raced out to see the sites.
by kind courtesy of
http://carverphoto.wordpress.com/2011/03/03/kunstgeschichte/
After the Porta Nigra, we stopped in to admire the Rococo decor at St Paulin's church.
Then we ate a very German supper of sauerkraut and sausage, washed down with some bottled water. I quickly learned that if you asked for a glass of water (in 1976) in Germany, you would be handed a glass of seltzer water.
With precious little time to spare, Donna and I stepped into Germany's equivalent of a 'corner store' to buy some ice cold cokes for the journey back to Koblenz.
The Coke bottle handed to me had evidently been put into the freezer section because, when I tried to open it, it exploded all over me.
by kind courtesy of
Both Donna and the shop attendant howled with laughter at the look of shock and horror on my face. And I remember thinking, briefly, how nice it was that Donna could laugh, even if it were at my expense.
I, alone, was NOT amused for I, alone, had rapidly warming coke dripping from my hair and eyelashes. It also ran down my face, to soak the entire front of my blue dress and open-toed leather shoes.
This sticky, nasty mess necessitated a complete, immediate and speedy wash-down, if we were to board our return train on time. I accomplished this feat in the tiny, and less than sanitary, wash-basin, which was situated at the back of the shop.
I removed and washed my dress, squeezing it dry between the available towels. Then, after rinsing as much of the soda as possible from my hair, body and shoes, I gingerly pulled the still sopping garment over my head and onto my body.
While this was a normal occurrence for me - in a dry dress - that wet dress fabric clung to my form. If you've ever tried to wriggle out of a wet swimsuit, you'll have an idea of the challenge I faced.
While this was a normal occurrence for me - in a dry dress - that wet dress fabric clung to my form. If you've ever tried to wriggle out of a wet swimsuit, you'll have an idea of the challenge I faced.
We had a train to catch,
there simply wasn't time
to wait for my dress to dry!
by kind courtesy of
Feeling like a bedraggled urchin, in ruined shoes, I summoned my dignity to request, a replacement coke. Then, with wet skirt flapping between my thighs, I practically ran out of that hapless place.
Donna, bless her, tried very hard not to chuckle at my continuing misfortune. But the sales lady showed no mercy as she merrily chortled away.....such a cruel, wicked woman!
Okay, I admit my wet shoes did squeak like a mouse as I slithered sideways with every step I took! Wet high heels (in 1976) were notoriously unstable, especially when one walked very quickly in them. So, as I could no go barefoot in Trier, I merely attempted to slither and slide with dignity.
This day had been tediously long, hot and beyond bizarre. But at least I was finally clean(ish) as well as a lot cooler than I'd expected to be! What did it matter if my dress flapped like a demented chicken with my every footstep?
by kind courtesy of
Our return journey from Trier to Koblenz was, happily, a great deal quicker than our outward journey, which had stopped at every single village along the Mosel Valley.
After my rude baptism by Coke, I slept in my wet dress for a further 1-1/2 hours before we reached our destination for that night. While I slept, my dress dried into a rumpled mess that wouldn't be considered fashionable for several more decades.
But, one doesn't associate with models without learning a thing or two about presentation. So I wore my crumpled wreck of a garment as if it were a Givenchy original! Mother would have been SO proud of me!
But, one doesn't associate with models without learning a thing or two about presentation. So I wore my crumpled wreck of a garment as if it were a Givenchy original! Mother would have been SO proud of me!
Donna and I had been anticipating a cold glass of Reisling in the relative quiet of our hotel in Koblenz. But we arrived in the city at 8pm, to discover that there were NO inexpensive hotels in Koblenz, nor even a Pension that would fit our meagre budget.
Our only option for that night was the Youth Hotel. But first we had to discover its location and the road that would get us from here to there. Eventually, a local couple guided us towards the Koblenz Youth Hostel. Another hailed a kindly bus driver, who took pity on two travel-worn females. We were standing by the side of the road, shocked by our first sight of the impossibly steep hill we'd have to scale to reach it.
It's my guess that our driver was used to rescuing damsels in distress, since he refused to charge us for the ride. A few minutes later, he stopped to let us off at the bottom of hill on the road that led to the hostel.
by kind courtesy of
The Koblenz Hostel was, at that time, housed in the Ehrenbreitstein Fortress, whose steep-sided hill looked even more daunting in the waning light.
It took all of Donna's and my remaining mental and physical strength to climb that hill, whilst still wearing our backpacks.
We arrived at the entrance well before the 9 pm curfew. Unbelievably, the outer gates of the hostel had already been locked, effectively shutting Donna and me outside for yet another night.
Something inside me snapped -
to quote Popeye the Sailor Man
by kind courtesy of
"That's all I can stands, cuz I can't stands n'more!"
We had travelled through 4 countries,
with different currencies, immigration and customs,
So I was determined to sleep horizontally that night.
In a bed that didn't shake!
In the previous 24 hours I had:
- endured a heatwave in Paris with Donna
- refused a cold-water hotel room in Luxembourg
- slept standing upright in an overcrowded, overdue train
- missed a planned train connection North from Basel (a blessing in disguise)
- enjoyed several hours aboard the luxurious Trans European Express to Koblenz
- travelled the Mosel Wine Valley to Trier to see an historical site that turned out to be less than one hour's walk from our Luxembourg starting point of the previous night!
- experienced being forcibly shampooed by an exploding coke bottle
- washed my soda-soaked self and dress in a filthy shop bathroom
- tried to find humour in walking about publicly in a sopping wet dress
- negotiated a steep cliff climb to a refuge only to discover it had CLOSED??!!
Much to Donna's chagrin, I pounded on those heavy wooden doors with my bare fists, all the while wailing that I would not stop creating a disturbance, until they let us both in. Had the ground opened and swallowed Donna whole, I think she would have been grateful to escape the embarrassment. I, myself, was beyond such qualms.
It took 20 minutes for someone in authority to respond, by which time I was tired and quite hoarse!
A sour faced woman led Donna and me to beds in different rooms, giving Donna refuge in the quieter adult room. I didn't care. At least tonight we would both sleep.
After brushing my teeth, and washing the remaining sticky Coke from my person, I was ready for sleep. That's when I discovered that my bunk was situated in a large room filled with giggling 10-year old English schoolgirls.
It was, apparently, the only bed available for me, but I didn't mind. The girls reminded me of when my sisters were little. I was extremely tired and very grateful I had earplugs!
Too tired to care what my pint-sized roommates were saying or doing, I caught only a snippet of their conversation as I pushed earplugs home for the night.
Too tired to care what my pint-sized roommates were saying or doing, I caught only a snippet of their conversation as I pushed earplugs home for the night.
....she just successfully
infiltrated a German fortress!
that was way cool to hear from 10-year olds!
I smiled to myself as I fell asleep. It had been a bizarrely busy and embarrassing day. But weI was thankful that I was strong, well-balanced and healthy enough to be able to handle it all. I was looking forward confidently, to the rest of my European Grand Tour.
After 22 hours of continuous travel, with its delays, missed connections, sight-seeing and exploding soda bottle, Donna and I deserved to sleep like a logs. And we did. And - though that glorious night's rest should have prepared us both for a leisurely Sunday Cruise up the Rhine River -
my personal Rhine Cruise experience
was to destined to be anything but leisurely!
NEXT WEEK!
GERMANY
Rhine Cruise Surprises
German Beer, Brats & Bavarian Music
Sunstroke Solutions
Angels to the rescue
Train to StuttgartHotel Wahr, Stuttgart
No comments:
Post a Comment