Within a few minutes from the ferry port, the A26 main road was waiting for them and the whole environment was suddenly so very, very different. As the car whisked along, Steve looked out of the windows at the roads, the cars, the buildings – they were all completely different to what he expected. He was amazed that just a twenty mile ferry crossing would take him into a new land, a new environment that to him, was as different to his own little world as China would be. Adam suggested they may want to stop after a couple of hours for a coffee or drink of some sort but Peter thought it ridiculous,
“we’ll almost be there!” he snapped at Adams suggestion.
“Just carry on, we’ll be there before you know it, it’s only three hours”.
Steve then realised that ‘just three hours’ would make everything even stranger, as Paris was to him, like New York. It sounded so exciting though, full of weird and wonderful people doing things he had never seen, famous places and landmarks.
“There is so much to see here”, he thought.
Soon they were bypassing Arras and Adam said it was apparently quite a big city, although he had only been there once. Chantilly was just north of Paris, not actually within the city. Steve looked at his phone, he figured that a train could take him from Chantilly through to the centre of Paris, Gare du Nord, in about a half hour. Steve recalled that when they were on the ferry, Adam told him that he and Pete were engineers and were working on a temporary basis for a French company.
By now it was dark and as they came into Chantilly, Pete asked Steve where he would like to be dropped off. Steve shrugged his shoulders, he really had no idea.
“Well, I have to go to Paris to get the TGV south, so the railway station sounds best please” he said with some uncertainty.
Pete knew roughly where the station was as he had used it himself numerous times and by 11:10 that night, they were there. After going around the one-way system they finally arrived outside Chantilly-Gouvieux station. They pulled the car over under one of those dreadful orange sulphur street lights. It was now quite cold and a little damp too and it all looked a little depressing to Steve, as he got his bag out the boot of the car. He shook hands with them both, thanked them and watched them drive off. He was a little envious, they were not much older than himself and it seemed to him they were like very seasoned travellers.
Steve turned to the station and for the very first time, he was alone in a foreign country in a strange place with strange people. He went inside, he was surprised how big the terminal was and how modern. It was marble floors and pillars everywhere and very clean. Hanging from one of the ceilings was a huge digital screen, providing passengers with information on their trains. Times, places and status were all clearly displayed with each trains route number. He was impressed with this, he had seen them before, but so big and with so much information was amazing to him. He walked over to the ticket sales point, but it was closed. Tickets needed to be purchased via a machine, it seemed, as a rather attractive woman in her early fifties gestured to Steve. She pointed at the row of machines opposite the desk. She smiled and momentarily she reminded him of his mother, causing him to think about her briefly, then got on with the job in hand.
“Tickets” he said to himself out loud. He marched toward the machine, getting his wallet ready. Placing his bag on the floor between his feet, he punched the buttons on the SNCF machine with the details for the train to Paris, it was just a few euros. But…there was no train until 03:10 in the morning, Steve looked at his watch. Then he looked at the large old fashioned style clock mounted on the station pillar, it was an hour later. “Of course” he said it aloud as he realised that they were in fact one hour ahead. Still, it was 11:35 now and he had to wait another three and a half hours. He completed the ticket purchase, picked up his bag and found a seat, there were plenty of them. This gave him a moment to look around, there were people around but it was not busy being almost midnight. A cleaner came along with a trolley, he was going to empty the bin next to Steve.
“Bonsoir” the man said as he approached.
Steve smiled and nodded “Bonsoir” he replied.
The man continued with his task and walked off toward the next bin. Steve was quietly thrilled inside, he had spoken French to a Frenchman for the first time. It was the first time he had ever said anything to anyone who was not English and he secretly enjoyed this moment of personal achievement.
By now, he was beginning to tire, travel is always exhausting, even when you feel that you are not really doing anything, just stepping from one bus or train onto another, it really takes it out of you after a few hours. He sat back and for the first time since leaving home, relaxed. He looked up at the ceiling and started to daydream. He thought about Hannah, his father, his mother, god bless her. His workmates, what would they make of all this, he thought. He closed his eyes and slowly began to drift off to sleep, but not for long. A young man, very scruffily dressed and dirty looking woke Steve up.
“What do you want?” said Steve.
The man looked blankly at him, and just held out his hand for money. But he did not smile, he just stared. Steve became uncomfortable with him being so close to him.
“Go away” he said, firmly gripping his bag tightly and he did just that.
He remembered that his father had warned him about beggars, so he was personally a little proud of himself for getting rid of him. Steve looked at his watch “wow!” he said to himself, he only had another hour to wait. Slowly he made his way to the correct platform and sat down again. This time, he started to think about where he was going in Paris and what he was going to do when he got there. After all, he was keen to see some of the city he had heard so much about. He reached down into his bag and pulled out a bottle of water, it was almost half empty now. He took a few gulps from it when suddenly, there was a fuss going on with a small group of people just seven or eight metres away. A man was shouting at another and other people seemed to be joining in. The man being shouted at was quite dark skinned and the other man was holding his wallet, shaking it at the little dark character. It was seemingly an attempted pick pocket. When Steve realised this, he immediately clutched his bag tightly. He thought what could happen if someone grabbed his bag and simply ran off with it. This was serious stuff and a greater need for vigilance, he thought. Just a few minutes later, there was a flurry of activity on the platform and within a minute or so, there were a couple of dozen passengers gathering, it seemed as if they had come from nowhere. And here it was, the train. It was coming in the distance and in just a few seconds had stopped at the platform. People pushed each other quite literally, to get on the train, almost as if the thing was about to go in five seconds. Steve had not experienced this apparent ‘rudeness’ before and was really quite surprised at people being so rude! Sure enough, within five minutes or so, the train was off. “This is it” he thought – “Paris here I come”.
He looked about the train and all the windows were steamed up, people just sat looking at their phones, “just late commuters” he thought.
On arrival at Paris (Gare du Nord) and just 32 minutes later, it was time to get off the train again. Steve looked around for signs for the High-speed TGV Duplex train to Marseilles. He wanted to check the times and prices for later, so he could go into Paris and see it for himself. A very smartly dressed man in a brown suit and a moustache was at the information desk and his English was excellent. He told him that there were some track works being carried out and the train would not be available until the next day, after 18:00, however, from then on there were several trains daily. Steve was fine with this, he wanted to see this famous city, some of it at least. He purchased his ticket in readiness for the 18:00 train and turned to see where the exit was. There were so many exits and he really didn’t know which way to turn when suddenly a young girl grabbed his arm quite tightly “come with me” she said quietly. Steve was looking at the back of her head as she led him weaving through the crowds to the door out. At one point, he almost fell over somebody’s suitcase.
“Where do you want to go to?” she enquired when they got outside.
Steve told her he wanted to see some of Paris, but he realised he had no sleep at all and felt so exhausted. The girl was about twenty years old, blonde, pretty, petite and with short hair and she offered to show him some of Paris. He was not stupid and wondered what the catch was.
“No, no thanks” he said in a courteous manner.
She pulled at his arm again, drawing him away from the doors, where people were busily trying to get past them. Around the corner was a young man, in the shadows, so Steve could not really see him clearly. The figure suddenly lurched forward out of the shadow and grabbed the strap of Steve’s bag. He was having none of it, he shouted, he swore, he wrestled until suddenly, there was no one. No girl, no male companion, they had gone as quickly as they had arrived. Steve put the strap back over his shoulder and looked around him, but nobody seemed interested or bothered, no one was looking at him, it seemed everybody was too busy going somewhere. “Now, to the city centre” he thought. As he drifted across the street, he was still a little shocked from this short and unpleasant ordeal and he was very tired. Within seconds, a bus drew up at the bus stop, where there were about fifteen people waiting to get on. Steve joined them and paid his fare to the driver.
Twenty minutes passed before the bus stopped, but when it did, everyone got off, the bus was empty, so Steve hopped off too. This really was the centre of Paris now. Across a few rooftops, he could see the Eiffel Tower, it was all lit up. He admired it and even at that distance, he was amazed. Just across the River Seine was Jardins du Trocadéro (The Trocadero Gardens) and Steve headed right for it.
He had read that many people visit there at night as it was open 24 hours, but all he wanted was somewhere to sit down and rest, to take all this in. It was exciting but nonetheless, after his recent incident at the train station, he had quickly become aware of the dangers of city life, this city anyway. He walked quite some distance before arriving at the gardens, but went straight inside and just to the left were some seats. There were a few people around and on the end seat were a couple necking. He sat down and immediately took his water bottle from his bag, one mouthful was all that was left. He was in fact, quite exhausted now. He quickly fell asleep, clutching his bag. After about thirty minutes, he was woken by somebody talking loudly as they walked past. He looked at them as they walked by, hand in hand. Steve was surprised to see that it was two girls, the ones that had been necking on the seat near to him. This was all new to him, “city life” he thought. Once again, he laid back in the seat only to be approached by a very friendly girl. She offered him “her services” she called them, at a ‘reduced tourist rate’! Steve was a little shocked at such a blunt approach and a little upset too, she seemed such a nice girl, so young “but then so was the last one”, he reminded himself. He told her to go away and he watched her wander towards the entrance to the park, when a tall slim man took her arm and pulled her back into the park, into the shadows. He knew then, he did not like the city life anymore.
Before he knew it, the sun was up, it was bright sunny and still rather cool and Steve went in search for something to eat, he had an intense feeling of hunger now. Just outside the park entrance, there were several burger stalls and he headed for the nearest. He stood standing, looking in awe at the Eiffel Tower just down the road. It seemed to peer down at everything around it. He ordered a large hotdog and when he had finished eating, he walked towards the tower, still looking up at it. He took out his phone and took a few pictures of it, when he saw an oriental couple taking “selfies”. He hadn’t thought of that, “imagine what Hannah would say when she sees this” he thought. Grinning, he snapped a couple with himself in the foreground and sent them straight away from his phone. By now, it was already nearing lunchtime and he wandered about, not sure what to do but he just knew he had to back at the railway station by 17:30 latest. Suddenly, a man ran up to him and thrust a camera into his hand, “please, take picture?” the oriental man asked, smiling.
Steve did just that, he had never taken a picture of anyone and he was quite thrilled!
By now it was mid-afternoon and it was time to head back to the Gare du Nord, so back on the bus, back to the station and in good time too. As he walked into the station, he looked through the glass to see the famous TGV train he would be on waiting there.