Paul and I split up as the ferry docked in Cherbourg. He was adamant about unfurling his art project for a picture with members of the crew and I wanted to make sure I made my train.
Lo and behold, though, whose bike do I see propped up at the Cherbourg train station? The One and The Only, Paul.
This is where the fun really began. I got on a train car marked for bicycles. There didn’t appear to be any space for a bicycle though and the train was soon to do depart. So I folded my bike up as tightly as I could. Mind you, I have 5 heavy bike-bags I’m juggling too. Within seconds of this Paul runs up to the train exasperated, “Where the hell do the bikes go…there’s no space for bikes…this woman doesn’t speak English…Shane…I’m just gonna have to miss this train!”
I told Paul we’ll get his bike on one way or another. While we’re finagling his things on to the train an employee is calmly but sternly speaking unintelligible French to us. Someone else on the train walked up and mercifully said in broken English, “dee velo go there,” as he pointed to the other side of the car.
After a quick smack of the forehead, I took my jumbled up bike and tried to walk it through the car. Not gonna work. At this point, there are 20 seconds till departure. So I said “Fuck it” and hopped off the train holding my 30-pound half-folded bike and sprinted to the other door. Paul and I just made it on.
Off we went to Paris.
The ride was relaxing and full of countryside scenery.
Paul and I helped each other and our bikes off the train and said our goodbyes. I had another train to catch. With my bags hastily secured I pushed off for Montparnasse Train Station in Paris from St. Lazare Station.
The bike ride was 20 minutes and took me through much of Paris’ iconic scenery. As I rounded the corner of the busiest intersection I’ve ever seen (buses, scooters, cars, an ambulance, construction), I merged into the right turn lane. Just then a man on a scooter sped up to pass me on the right and I swerved back out of the way. One of my hastily attached panniers went flying. After a thud, I heard screams of “WAIT WAIT!” from another scooter driver. As I turned around to get my bag, I looked up and saw a bus headed straight toward me. I nearly fell over on my now unbalanced bike as I shuffled while straddling the damn bike to pick up my bag. Then I quickly dashed to safety on the sidewalk.
Crisis averted, bag saved, life still intact. Shortly after, I made it to the train station where I sweet-talked my bicycle onto the high-speed train that normally prohibits them.
The trip is off to a good start.
