Carcassonne | An EventFULL Day - Day 38

In my prior posts, I have said that I usually leave my travel days open-ended as this affords me the flexibility to overcome delays. I have been fortunate thus far and have encountered only what I would classify as minor delays. Rescheduling the train last night was only the beginning of the difficulties I encountered attempting to leave Marseille. After 30-something days, I was plagued with my first significant delay. Fortunately, all were out of my control, so I leaned into the day to find the bright spots.

I spend the morning at the hostel catching up on my blog and researching Le Tour de France routes for the coming days. A quick tip, I use a personal VPN on my phone and laptop for added protection while traveling. This allows me to use unsecured WiFi networks anywhere without worrying that someone will steal my crypto information. I recommend using a VPN service such as NordVPN if you travel abroad, even if you only plan on taking your phone. At $6-$8 per month, I can rest easy knowing my internet presence is private and protected whether I use free WiFi or cellular data. 

Around 330 pm, I grab my pack and make the short hot trek up to Saint-Charles Train Station. My train is now scheduled for 530 pm since I rescheduled my departure last night. At 430 pm, I hear an alarm, followed by instructions requesting all travelers to evacuate the train station. Now, the American in me promptly dismisses the instructions like we all do back in the United States. Then I quickly remind myself that I am in a foreign country. I have no idea how this is going to go down. The picture below is from inside the warm train station. Protected from the sun, it is a few degrees cooler than the ambient temperature. AC is a luxury and not common around these parts.

I follow all the other passengers out of the station. I find my way into a concrete underground tunnel. It leads to a grocery store across the street. I decide this is a safe place to wait this out. From the tunnel, I can see that several passengers are much more comfortable with what is occurring. They wait casually outside the front doors waiting for notice to re-enter. Twenty minutes later, I hear a loud BOOM! Similar to the midday cannon that is fired in Nice. I can now see SNCF security (the train company), municipal police, and sentinels (French military) walking around the exterior of the building.

Another ten minutes later, passengers start shuffling back into the train station. I join a large gathered crowd at the video board, hoping to learn of the status of my train. It is now 515 pm, and my scheduled departure time is 524 pm. Then it flashes, "2h00 en retard"(Delayed 2 hrs). I send a text to my Airbnb host.

Well, this gives me a chance to grab some food. I head for a tiny restaurant nearby and order a salad. It is hot today. I feel sticky and could use something refreshing. My salad consists of ambient temperature iceberg lettuce, avocado, tomatoes, a sliced egg, and half a dozen warm prawns (which I need to peel). Not quite what I had in mind. Howeve, it beats the McDonald's inside the terminal.

I head into a convenience store in the terminal to grab a bottle of water. On the shelf, I notice one of my favorite iconic French comic books, Asterix. What makes Asterix so great? First, the comic book is always hardbound. Second, it is wonderfully illustrated, witty, and humorous. The series focuses on a warrior village from Gaul that resists Roman occupation around 50 BC. 

An example of the illustration from the book. This brings back lovely memories. I would ride my bike to the library when I was 6 and check out Asterix books when I lived in Saint Julie, Quebec.

At 715 pm, I check the terminal departure video board. En retard 2h30 min. I wonder if I will even make it to Carcassone today. Finally, around 830 pm, I'm settled into my seat. The train begins to move. The train has AC. The airflow, however, is minimal. It's going to be a long sticky 3-hour train ride to Carcassone. I converse with a young French couple across the aisle from me. Both speak English, similar to how I speak French. We frequently need to translate in our heads before speaking. Despite this, we have a great conversation. In my experience, when I make an effort to communicate, people are generally very forgiving. Words are simply constructs of The Mind. There is no single right or wrong word to describe our experience. Objects are so much more than the words we use to describe them. This is the beauty of languages. Each one describes our world imperfectly and in a slightly different way. Be aware of this when you travel. It will make it much easier to connect with people. The goal of communication is to share a common experience, not to describe it in terms of absolutes. 

Soon we are chatting about past, current, and future travels. Nicolas and Camille plan to visit Ireland someday, so I share my blog for ideas. We talk about southwestern France and the great little towns in the region. Camille is from Moissac, northwest of Toulouse. I get many great ideas and can't wait to explore the area in depth. Camille is reading a Fench novel. Nicolas and I joke about reading too much Asterix as kids instead of "real" books like Camille's. They ask me about my family in Québec? I tell them my only relatives are my Aunt, Uncle, and cousins. I also tell them my Aunt calls me the stranger she loves the most. It's been way too long since I've seen her.

The couple reminds me of another couple I met in Ireland, Dylan and Klaudia. I could chat with these two for a long time as well. Camille shows me a few additional locations to explore on my phone. We discuss Colorado, Arches National Park, and Lake Powell. Places that Nicolas visited when he was younger. Before stepping off the train, we exchange contact information. I ask to take their picture before wishing them goodnight and safe travels.

I arrive at my Airbnb a little after 11 pm. I sit in the parking lot, by the entrance, waiting for my host to let me into the studio apartment. Amanda lives on the other side of town and rents this studio to travelers like myself. A car with two females arrives. I make my way over to it, thinking it might be Amanda. Quickly I realize this is not Amanda, my host. The car leaves and returns about 10 minutes later. Then I notice a police drive by. They park past the entrance to the apartment complex. Soon I am being questioned by the Municipal Police. Do I live here? What I am doing here? I show the officer my correspondence with Amanda. She ought to be here anytime, I tell the officer. She says very well and bids me good night. The two girls in the car thought I looked suspicious and called for assistance. Fortunately, I speak French.

Amanda arrives a few minutes later. I fill her in as she gives me a tour of the place. I laugh and say it has been a really long day. I thank her for her help and bid her goodnight.