I Spoke too Soon. As I Tend to Do.

Why I love Trains.

Or why, believe it or not, trains are not the worst form of transportation known to mankind.

Or, "Why I almost titled this blog "Why I love Trains." 

(Written January First. In real-time.) 

I am back on a train again. I was at the station an hour before the train took off. I am headed back to France. I am surrounded by people speaking not only Italian but also French, and it feels good. I never thought that I would be so happy to be on a train in my life but ladies and gentlemen, there is an even worse form of transportation: the bus.

We took four different bus rides during our trip: an eleven-hour over-night bus, two 6-hour buses, and a sixteen-hour overnight bus. Today I am taking a train for the distance that probably would be comparable to an eleven-hour bus ride, but it's only going to take about four hours. And I have a seat that is big enough to fit my butt and the girl next to me has enough room for her butt as well. It's a beautiful thing. The tray is big enough to fit my obviously huge mini-netbook, and the cupholder fits a bottle of water. There are no smelly older Czech guys sitting next to me throwing back beer after beer, or staring intently into my face while speaking a language that I swear is made-up.

Side note: have you even seen written Czech? It looks like someone just kept banging their head on the keyboard and them embellished it with a bunch of funny accents. I am thankful to be heading back to a country where I understand the native language and don't have to feel like an idiot when I don't know how to order McDonalds in Italian or German or Czech.

Anyways, overnight buses are the devil. The only advantage that they have to them is that they are cheaper than traveling by train. And I've never had a “bus delay” which screwed up half my vacation. The first bus, from Geneva to Prague, had the grumpiest men working on it who would get annoyed if you were the last one out the bathroom at a rest-stop and would yell at you for not realizing that they had moved your luggage when you weren't looking. I was seated with Mia, who wouldn't trade her window seat for my aisle seat, and then proceeded to put her legs in my legspace the entire time she was sleeping because there was no where else for her to stretch out her six-foot-tall frame. Needless to say, I hardly slept that night. The bus was also showing American movies dubbed in Czech. But it wasn't normal dubbing... it was more like one man was translating the script as the movie played and read for all the parts. It was the most annoying thing ever... I doubt the Czechs even enjoyed it.

Oops I may have spoken too soon... the train I'm on is supposed to be heading to Paris, but they're making a switch in Chambery because of technical difficulties. But... ha, train gods! Chambery is my stop anyway! You can't get me this time!Also, we got stopped and controlled by the police. That was fun. I had forgotten that I left my passport in my bag with my dirty clothes... I figured if anyone rummaged through my stuff, they wouldn't want to pick through my dirty socks to try to find valuables.

Now you know where to look if you ever want to rob me. Oops.

A couple hours later:

Well. Yeah. The train that I was on earlier ended up sitting almost two hours in the station before being able to move. Meanwhile, I waited for my connection. I went down the road to Quick and ate lunch, came back, and waited for the platform to show up for my train. For a while, it seemed like it was never going to show up because the whole station was full of people staring at the board, waiting for that magical number. Finally about 5 minutes before the train was supposed to depart, Voie E flashed on the screen. There was a mad rush to the platform – and I was elated when the train stopped with the door right in front of me. Talk about miracles.

But then an odd thing happened.

The door didn't open.

None of the doors opened. And we were told there would be a five minute... ten minute... fifteen minute delay. And we stood there around the un-opening doors like a drone of ants gathering around picnic crumbs, just waiting for the doors to magically slide open so we could knock down the people around us to ensure a seat. Twenty minutes of waiting later, an announcement came over the loudspeaker... the train had been canceled. We were to board another train to Aix les Bains which was leaving immediately, or wait an hour until the next train departed.

Problem: Neither of those trains stopped at La Tour-de-Pin.

But then another train, with only two cars, pulled up behind the sealed-shut train, and we were told that it was going to Lyon. Yay! So a bunch of us crammed onto that train, got situated... only to be told that the train in front of us was unable to move, so we all had to disembark.

Can you use “disembark” when referring to trains? Whatever. I just did.

So, as I do, I went to the magical yellow machine inside the station to check train times... and the next train to LTDP wasn't for another two hours. Sigh.

I bought myself a kit-kat and a coffee from the vending machines and settled myself in the waiting area. I had just pulled out my computer to type away my frustrations when an urgent announcement came over the loudspeaker... The canceled train had a replacement! It was departing immediately!

I and many, many other sprang up from our seat and went running through the station to Voie B... the train pulled in... stopped... and the doors opened! What magic!

So then here I am. On a train. With a seat. And still thankful to not be crammed into a bus with smelly, old, drunk Czech men. Even if the train gods hate me.