London to Paris

I decided to go the train route to get to Montpellier.  Due to my rather crippling fear of planes, I felt it was a great alternative.  I would be able to see the French country side while stressing a lot less about falling from the sky.  One tricky thing about my train choice is that I have two suitcases and a decently heavy backpack to lug around.  Another tricky thing is my transfer of train stations in Paris, from Gare du Nord to Gare to Lyon.  To prepare myself for this stressful hour I brushed up on my French in the first half of my travels and used the Bank of Jonathan Sulenski to get some Euros so I wouldn't have to fuss with an ATM.  

The morning started off early, waking up at six to try and get to the tube by half past.  Thankfully I had practice with the Tube the day before so that was less of a debacle than it could have been.  And the great thing about being a frail looking girl is that people offer to help you carry your luggage up and down stairs.  I am a proud woman so it almost offends me because I know I can carry it but I do appreciate the manners of the men who offered to help.  

I got to Kings Cross/ St. Pancras with time to spare, got checked in, and settled on the train without breaking a sweat!  The train ride was super easy too but I was having a little anxiety over getting to the stinking Gare Du Lyon.  To prepare myself for the high speed high stress transfer I got ready to deboard as soon as I saw one other person prepare themselves.  From listening to him he was French so I assumed he knew what he was doing.  I dragged my suitcases as efficiently as possible over to the taxi stand.  Now that line was something I did not prepare for so my heart was pounding a bit.  I was offered a "moto" taxi which is a motorcycle and I kind of looked at my bags then look at the dude like he was in idiot.  Anywho, I got a taxi and spoke good enough french to fool my taxi driver into thinking I spoke it well.  So when he asked me if I had any coins on my I kind of gave him the cocked head baffled look and said "Je parle un peu franca is…." So then sign language it was.  He actually thought I was German.  It might have been the hair and eyes but I like to think maybe it was my accent? Or maybe not because German accents are ugly.

During this language barriered taxi ride I knew nothing was up to me anymore.  It was up to the taxi driver to drive fast and the traffic not to suck.  To spare me some gray hairs, I decided not to look at my phone until I got to the train station.  I was so very pleased with my taxi driver (not only because he didn't rip me off) when I realized he got me to the station 20 minutes before my train took off, and better yet the train was delayed 10 minutes so even if I had taken longer, my cushion time was greater.  

Let me tell you, I never want to do that short transfer again.   Give me an hour or two so I can breathe and appreciate where I am.  I mean I literally flew threw Paris, no pictures or anything.  But I also know that it can be done so if need be….I can manage.  

So I arrived at Montpellier and had no previous knowledge of this Nick character (Muiris' friend) that was going to pick me up.  All I knew was the he was wearing a California t-shirt on.  That is it.  No number, no email, just his T-shirt.  Thankfully we ran into each other unlike my uncle and me.  He gave me a tour of Montpellier and then the bar he works at.  It is an Irish pub.  It was fun and everyone spoke english so that made it easier.  We stayed out late and in the end bonded over harry potter....so score!!!! love it! haha