Yesterday’s journey was practically perfect and more than
made up for last year’s disastrous one.
Mind you, I was so knackered – still am! – that I couldn’t have handled
much adversity, so it was just as well.
I got on the bus in Oxford
at 04:30 and was informed by the
driver that the ticket machine didn’t work, so I got to London
for free! Then I stepped off the bus at Baker
Street ready to hail a taxi – my suitcase was
heavy and I felt weak – when I noticed another lady who had gotten off the bus
with a suitcase and looked like she was going places. So I asked her whether she, too, was heading
for St Pancras? However did you guess,
she asked. We shared a cab for £4 each
and then had breakfast together at Le Pain Quotidien. (I decided to forgive them for their
transgressions after numerous apologies.)
The train to Paris
was uneventful, and I headed for the taxi-rank as soon as I alighted. And what do you know, for the first time in
human memory there were more cabs than passengers!!!! I hopped straight into one and was on my way
to the Gare de Bercy. The taxi driver
was a chatty one and we discussed all the ills
of the world. My limited French prohibited
in-depth analysis, but I was able to agree with him that the government didn’t
understand normal people like us and that a new revolution was overdue.
Then I hung around for two hours at the Gare d Bercy! Remember last time when I just had two
minutes to spare? I have to admit the Gare de Bercy is the last place I would
want to kill a few spare hours, it is supremely un-entertaining. One tip:
Buy drinks from the machine, the same bottle of water is Euro 1 cheaper
from the machine than from the cafeteria stand.
The train journey to Clermont Ferrand was likewise
unremarkable and went to plan, except for the curious fact that someone stole
my German magazine Der Spiegel. I left
it on my seat to go to the loo, and when I returned it had disappeared! I walked through the entire train compartment
looking for the culprit, but all the passengers affected an air of utter
innocence, so I had to resign myself to a Spiegel-less existence.
The autocar was waiting at Clermont Ferrand, again no
hitch. I managed to convince an
extremely loquacious beldame who tried to sit next to me that I understood no
French, so she sat next to someone else.
That old woman talked non-stop for the entire journey, and the
unfortunate person who sat next to her got off two stops early to escape
her. After that she talked to the
driver. She got off the bus with me at
La Bourboule and tried to press me into service to take her to her hotel, but
after I took her suitcase out of the bus for her I escaped.
Someone must have tipped off the mayor of La Bourboule that
I was coming, because he had arranged a fair in my honour, and dozens of cars
drove around town, honking their horns to welcome me. It was all very overwhelming.
I let myself into the hotel, having had the number e-mailed
to me and let myself into my apartment, No 203 as usual. I found my bag which the hotel keeps for me,
and within an hour was settled in. Then I went to Le Galapagos for dinner since
I was starved. Entrecote de Salers with
green beans and Brochette d’Ananas for dessert – the later consists of lots of
fresh pineapple, basically, which is good for my health so I eat it as much as
possible. Then I went to bed and slept
for ten hours solid – not bad considering that my average has been four hours a
night for the last year or so!
Stay tuned for tomorrow when I report about my adventures at
La Grande Therme!
