Gare de Bercy? Did I just read Gare de Bercy?

OK, so this is not a photo of the Gare de Bercy.  I have never been to the Gare de Bercy, and frankly have no desire to go there.  But fate decided otherwise.  The photo, by the way, shows the view from my Nostalgia Studio, which I see as I am writing this anguished post.

For years immemorial, ever since the denizens of Paris trekked the long weary road south, they made their way to the Gare de Lyon to catch the train that runs to Clermont Ferrand.  There is a direct line to it from the Gare du Nord (D), and I take it each time I wend my way to la Bourboule via Paris and Clermont Ferrand.  I know how long it takes, and I schedule my Eurostar arrival accordingly.  Given the many changes I have to make and connections I must not miss, I ensure I have plenty of time – I hate to rush with a suitcase in tow!

You can therefore imagine my pained surprise when I discovered that the French transportation authorities – may their beards wither! – have decided  to change around the departure points of the Paris trains.  To wit, trains to Clermont Ferrand no longer leave from the Gare de Lyon, they now leave from the Gare de Bercy!  This means another change of trains for me, and adds another 20 minutes or so to my journey time.  Yet worse, having never been to that train station before, I shall have to find my way from the Metro to the train station and the right departure platform, all in double quick time!  All my careful planning and scheming nipped in the bud!  I have a mind to write to the Prime Minister about this, but considering his response to my last missive, viz to do something about the Murder of Nigel by the plotsters of the Archers, I am inclined not to bother.

I will probably manage to just about catch my train to Clermont Ferrand at 13:00 – I have 75 minutes between arriving at the Gare du Nord and my train leaving the Gare de Bercy – but I shudder to think what would have happened if I hadn’t checked my departure station on the ticket.  I mean, why would one?  After all, it has always been the Gare de Lyon?  I would have wandered around the Gare de Lyon lost and helplessly looking for my train, and when I finally found out that it left from another station altogether it would have been too late! 

I would have sat on my suitcase like Paddington Bear and cried bitter tears in a dark corner of the station, bemoaning my fate and cursing humanity.  I might have abandoned all attempts to ever get to la Bourboule ever again, and ended up in a seedy bar in Pigalle instead, spending my vacation money on cheap Bourbon while cavorting with disreputable Apaches (do they still call them that?).  Why don’t the authorities ever consider the terrible consequences of their ill-thought-out changes?

Anyway.  I am off now to pack my suitcase and finalise my preparations for La Grande Vacance Annuelle de DB – see you in la Bourboule!  Well, vicariously and blogistically speaking, obviously – because you will be working while I shall frolic in the sunshine!   Ha ha ha ha!!!!