I woke up this morning pretty late—catching up on some sleep that I didn’t know I had missed. I went to be at like 9:30 or something (out of lacking other things to do) and woke up around 8:45 since the zoo didn’t’ even open until 10am and I had nothing to do before that. And driving around didn’t really make sense since I was so close to topping my 100 kilometer mark and ever kilometer over adds up in fees.
So I got up, put on my same clothes from yesterday (I obviously hadn’t brought anything with me) and made myself look as best I could considering. I locked up the room, went downstairs and paid my bill. This time there were several people in the restaurant area of the hotel—all smoking and drinking coffee and looking like they’ve done this every day for the past 15 years.
A woman helped me this time and I paid for my room and left. I backed up car out of the parking lot amidst several young teenagers obviously waiting for their school bus and obviously wondering who the heck I was.
I went back into Thoiry and got two croissants and the local bread shop, drove over to the Thoiry zoo parking lot and sat there, waiting for time to pass, listening to different Euro-pop stations on the car radio. At one point I thought I had run the battery out of the car since all of a sudden the music went off, but then I realized it was my car going into “saver” mode or something which is does when its been left for too long.
I waited and waited and ate my croissants, taking a picture of my small car in the huge parking lot, alone. I watched employees arrive until it was finally time for the zoo to almost open. I pulled my car up to the entrance of the animal reserve area (where the hippos are), waited while the gates were opened, and then waited a bit for the employee to get back to the ticket booth before I pulled up, first in line.
I bought my ticket and couldn’t remember if it was the same guy from last night. Deciding that it wasn’t, I thanked him and drove off to the hippos. The hippos are on the sort of end bit of the driving path so I had to cautiously speed past all of the other animals. This takes some skill because you have to look as if you are interested in the other animals and drive fast but not too fast to scare them, or to get booted from the zoo. I had to do this because there was an official zoo car driving in front of me (going somewhat fast) and so I eventually overtook this car and drove past trying not to make it look like I was a madwoman.
But I guess in a sense, I was. I was just anxious about getting to the hippos.
I finally pulled up to them and to my complete and utter joy they were all out of the water, feeding on some hay right near the road. Thank god. I counted five hippos, as I had thought before which meant that I was missing one hippos’ name. I would worry about that later.
For the next two or so hours I spent getting pictures of the five hippos, which is difficult when its raining and when they are all chewing at different speeds. This may sound silly, but its actually hard to get a good picture “mid-chew,” especially with five of them. Plus the rain was coming and going and cars kept driving up behind me and inching up closer and closer, I guess testing to see if I was really going to move. When they realized I wasn’t, they would then back up and swerve around me, the parents shooting me dirty looks for taking up the best view and their children in the back looking at me with big eager eyes.
Oh the guilt! I could take it though. I just kept my place and watched as the hippos finished their infinite mound of hay and eventually made their way back into the water. Luckily no keepers came by to make me move (you’re really not supposed to stop) but unfortunately no one came by for me to ask about the fifth hippos’ name.
I watched until the last moment—until the last hippo gave up eating and waddled into the water. He was obviously the male hippo since he took a great amount of time getting in and then spreading his scent. Satisfied, I rolled up my window, climbed back into the driver’s side and headed to find someone to help me.
I pulled back up to the ticket counter and the guy seemed surprised to see me again. I handed over my notebook with the hippos names and tried to explain to him what I wanted. I was certain that the baby hippos’ name was missing from my list—or that the baby didn’t have a name. He thought I was nuts. Absolutely and completely nuts. He said, “what are these? What do I do with this? Who is Paulo? I do not know” and I was tried to explain to him that I had gotten the names from someone else. He just looked at me.
Finally I pulled out my translation (the “I love hippos” schpeel) and he read it out loud (almost as if to mock me in a good natured way) and then got on his walkie talking. He then told me that the baby hippos’ name was Dominique, the father Paulo and the mother Martine. I thanked him, pulled a U-turn again and headed out of the zoo, feeling that embarrassed yet completely satisfied feeling I always get.
I drove back to Versailles and pulled up to the car rental agency to bring back my car but hadn’t filled it up with gas since I wanted to show them that I hadn’t used up all of the gas. Based on my mileage and the gas reading, you could easily see that my 100 or so kilometers had not used up over half of the gas tank. It mathematically wasn’t possible. I pulled in and found the agency to be closed from 12-2:00 for lunch. Who takes a two hour lunch break? The girl who I rented the car from was inside, she came out and in her very broken English said that I could return the car even though it was past 12:00 and so I tried to point out to her the gas thing.
It was no use, she just looked at me like I was nuts so I decided what the heck, I’ll come back at 2:00.
So I spent the time walking around finding some lunch and then biting my time sitting down near the Chateau of Versailles, which ended up being a big waste of time. Not the castle, but the sitting. I realized later that I should have visited the gardens of Versailles while I waited, then the rooms later. Let me back up, I had decided that I would visit Versailles while I was, well, in Versailles (it’s the old royal palace) because at the rate I was going I might as well get back to Geneva late since everything would be closed by the time I would get there. So I wasted two hours waiting for the rental agency to open when I could have been wandering around the grounds, but I had thought to myself, there is no point starting the tour without having to do all of it.
Oh well—these past two days have seemed like a lot of wasted time. At two o’clock I went back to the rental agency, got the woman who spoke more English, tried to explain my problem, and she just looked at me. So fill it up, she says. But no, I didn’t use this gas...I try to explain, even draw pictures and point to the gas. She doesn’t get it.
Frustrated, I take the car and find a gas station and fill it up to the top. It only turned out to be like 20 Euros which in hindsight seemed worth it to just pay instead of wait and deal with the Hertz people. But out of principle, I didn’t want to pay it. In the end, I just gave up.
I returned the car back to Hertz, walked over to the Chateau of Versailles and spent a few hours on the grounds—seeing the hall of mirrors (which is undergoing renovations, by the way, which won’t be done until 2007 if you are planning on going), seeing the gardens and the state rooms. I then got a train back to Paris, a subway back to the Gare de Lyon, and just about rain to catch the train to Geneva.
I got on, found a seat in the no-smoking area and found just two. I sat down and felt relieved that I had made it on time (on an earlier train than I had planned) and a guy came and sort of awkwardly sat down next to me. I then realized crap, I didn’t get a reservation. The reason the train was so full was because all of these people had reservations—I was probably sitting in this guys seat! That is why he looked at me like I was weird. I then excused myself to get off and literally as I got off the doors closed and it left.
So much for getting back to Geneva early!
I then went and stood in line for a reservation, which took a long time but I eventually got it, all for 3 Euros. I had a brief lapse in line where I thought I saw someone I knew from Macalester (and literally bolted out of line to chase him down only to find that it wasn’t him but completely taken aback at the similarity) and then had about an hour and a half to wait for my train. I bought a book at the English bookstore in the train station and bided my time people watching.
Finally, finally I was on the train and on my way to Geneva. The train ride back was slow because my new book is much more boring than what I just finished. I was getting impatient with the characters and couldn’t get into it. We made it back to Geneva just before 11 o’clock at night—I was tired and ready for bed. I got a taxi and after being ridiculously overcharged, I was dropped off at my hotel. I climbed into bed—tired but in the end glad that I had gone back to Thoiry.
(c) 2004 Sarah Galbraith. All Rights Reserved.
Wednesday, September 15, 2004
Tuesday, September 14, 2004
Geneva, Switzerland—Paris, France—Thoiry, France—Day 227
Rolling over this morning at 5:45am to check my watch, I was sure it wasn’t time to get up. And it wasn’t but I had been awakened by furious thundering and flashes of lightning coming from outside. There seemed to be a huge storm going on but my semi-conscious state just checked my watch, noticed the storm, and fell back asleep.
I woke up again around 7:00 this time ready to get up. I got ready and decided that today I would either go to the Matterhorn (which is in Zermatt which meant taking a train to Lausanne and then to down to Zermatt—according to my guidebook) or try and go back to the zoo in Thoiry.
Now if you remember, my trip to the Thoiry zoo was unsuccessful. The hippos were a fair distance away and I couldn’t find anyone to help me. I decided that it was critical for me to make the effort to go back to the zoo and I would get the pictures there. Damn it.
Because of the thunderstorm this morning, I decided in my subconscious sleep that I would go to Thoiry today since there was no sense in seeing the Matterhorn on a cloudy and rainy day (even though the Matterhorn is a far distance from Geneva—who knew if it was raining there?). So I headed out of the hotel and tried to find a taxi.
I couldn’t find one at the taxi stand that I had seen earlier near my hotel so I started to walk in the general direction of the train station, which wasn’t far but a good distance across the lake from my hotel. I kept walking and walking and couldn’t’ find a tax stand anywhere. OF course there would be the odd taxi zooming by me, but they all seemed to be taken or on the other side of the road which was difficult to cross due to fencing and trams and such.
So just kept walking and walking and made it to the train station with just barely any time to spare to get the three hour train back to Paris. At this point I started to run and went up the steps and down the passage to the international trains to France. I ran up to the entrance to the platforms and found them closed. Because you have to go through customs to go into France you cannot just simply hop on the train with minutes to spare.
I had missed it. And the next train was not until 10am. So, exhausted and overheated, I sat down in a smoky café, got some breakfast and started reading my book to kill two hours.
Looking back on this, I guess I really should have scrapped my plans for France and headed to the Matterhorn anyways since I wasn’t’ going to get into Paris until 1:30 at this rate, let alone into Versailles where I needed to rent a car, let alone the zoo in Thoiry which is a good drive from Versailles. But I was stubborn and had set my mind to it.
I will get those pictures.
So I read my book and when the smoke got too much in the café I wandered and found an internet café in the train station. I had gotten a reservation for this 10 o’clock train to Paris so I wasn’t worried about missing it. When it was time, I headed to customs, was checked through (I don’t think they even looked at my passport) and soon I was sitting on the train heading to Paris.
I was absorbed in my book “Fast Food Nation” and sped through a good chunk of it before reaching Paris around 1:30—and any one who has ever read it will know, in three hours I was put off of meat—for good? Who knows. For now at least.
We pulled into the Gare de Lyon train station and I set about finding the subway station and getting the subway to the Invalides station, where I would then get the commuter train to Versailles. I felt like an old pro and walked with confidence to where I needed to go, getting on the subway and train like a real Parisian—reading my book the whole way.
I couldn’t believe that I was back in Paris—it almost felt like a time warp or something, even though I had just been here just a few days ago. I got off at Invalides and bought my ticket to Versailles and hopped on the next train.
Twenty-odd minutes later, I was in Versailles. Phew! I had made it this far. By this time however, it was going on 3 o’clock—due to all of the walking, switching trains, commuting on the subway, waiting in line, buying tickets, etc. etc. I just had a few hours before the zoo would even close, so I had to get my car and get on my way.
So I walked up to the trusty Avis counter where I had rented the car before but there was a couple ahead of me in line. They seemed to be renting a car (I know this sounds obvious but they could have been returning it) but I couldn’t really tell because the office was so small that I had to wait outside of it since the two of them were taking up most of the waiting area. I waited while the couple and the woman behind the desk (the same one I had before) laughed and laughed. They seemed to be sharing stories and just yapping away. It didn’t take long for me to get antsy.
While they talked on and on about god knows what (I decided at this point that they weren’t talking about renting cars) I grew more and more anxious. Time was ticking away and I knew that I needed o get a car quickly. If only I knew French I could speak out to the girl and ask her, but I had to just stand there and wait in line. Gradually I moved closer and closer to them, despite the lack of space, and they eventually realized I was there and said something along the lines of oh, we should go, she’s waiting. Then they started to fill out the frequent user card to get points for their rentals. The man was writing out his phone number (or address—something with numbers was all I gathered) and was exclaiming each number enthusiastically—taking precise care with each one as his wife and the Avis woman were laughing.
I couldn’t take it. I was just about to leave when finally, finally, finally they were done. They left and I almost collided with them as they went out of the office and I tried my best to dash in. I asked the girl if there were any cars available and she told me no.
Ohmigod.
I looked at my watch—almost 25 minutes had passed—what was I doing? It was now going on 3:25 pm and I needed to get a car and make it to the zoo. I glanced across the road and saw a Hertz rental agency and ran across it.
Luckily they did have cars available but it took some time filling out paperwork, getting the car ready, before they handed me the keys. The woman obviously couldn’t tell from the pleading look on my face or the stamping of my foot to realize that I was in a hurry. Oh! She says, you are from America! Ohhh….she talks enthusiastically with her coworker. I didn’t have time for this, I just needed a car.
Finally I was handed keys, given the car and was heading out of the parking lot. Only when I got on the main road did I realize that the tank to the car wasn’t full—it was only ¾ full which was annoying. How was I going to explain this to them when I returned the car—I didn’t want to pay for gas I didn’t use.
I didn’t have time to go back and sort this out so I kept driving and made it on to the freeway, double backed and was soon heading towards Thoiry. Funny that I actually remembered how to get there and also funny that I didn’t bring with me (due to forgetfulness) the maps to the zoo OR the street maps and also funny that the Hertz agency didn’t’ have any of these.
I followed the signs again, just when I got to that point of wondering where on earth the zoo was, I saw signs for Thoiry. I turned off of the main road, went through some small villages, and coasted down to the entrance to the zoo.
Glancing at my watch it read 4:45—perfect. Now I have at least an hour to get some pictures of the hippos and to get their names.
I pulled up to the ticket window, thrust out my credit card (for lack of cash—which I had also forgot) and the guy just looked at me. He took my card, went to swipe it and then said (in good but broken English) I can’t use this and hands the card back to me.
Good god, why?? I looked at him desperately and asked. Well, he says, the zoo closes in 15 minutes.
Oh man. The zoo closes at five?? Not six?? I looked at the times and sure enough, closes at 5pm on week days during September. Great. Just great. I took my card back and heaved a great big sigh but then decided, well, at least I will get their names. So I handed over my prepared and in French statement, “I love hippos—what are their names?” over to the guy.
He took it and thought it was hilarious. There was another guy in the booth with him and they both just shook their heads, but thankfully wrote down some names: Paulo, Paloma, Martine and Junior. I took the pad of paper back and thanked them, clarifying with them the names and the fact that there were just four hippos—which was weird cause I could have sworn that I saw five.
Never mind, at least I go their names. So I pulled a U-turn and headed back to—well, where? What was I going to do? According to my contact for the car, I was allowed only 100 kilometers to drive (which is like an hour’s worth of driving which is nothing-but I couldn’t’ refuse it since the rental was so last minute) and already I have put on something along the lines of 65 kilometers. There was no use me driving all the way back to Versailles to get a hotel—or to call it quits and go back to Geneva.
I needed to find a hotel in the area.
So I drove around more (adding more kilometers to the car) and eventually found a sign that read “Hotel, Restaurant.” So I pulled up, went in and completely took the owner by surprise in the fact that they probably hadn’t had anyone in a long time check into the hotel. There was a larger man behind the counter was like, are you sure? The hotel? And I was like, umm, yes, please.
A younger guy was sitting on a bar stool up at the bar and he just whistled—whatever that meant, I don’t know. I was shown to my room with the big man and his equally big dog who came up to my hips and the room turned out to be quite nice—two small beds, a bathroom and the peachy painted walls that I have been accustomed to in hotel rooms. He asked me if I wanted dinner (I said no thank you before I even thought which I regretted later) and he left me.
I didn’t know what to do with myself. It was just about 5:30 now so not only did I have time to kill but needed to now find some dinner. I finished up my book but only had about a chapter left anyways so this didn’t take long, tried to take a nap and then around 7 o’clock went in search of food.
I drove up to the main village of Thoiry, parked my car and set about finding dinner. There were three or so “restaurants” in the little main area bit—a pizzeria which was closed—another hotel that I must have passed by earlier that I didn’t see who refused to feed me since I wasn’t a hotel guest—and another bar which looked way too local for me to even approach without getting some good stares. I got back in the car and drove around a bit more—eventually finding another small town with its own grocery store where I bought a package of cookies, two sandwiches and pre-made salad. I bought my things, headed to my car (ignoring the stares and whistles) and drove back to my hotel where I ate my dinner in bed, fiddled with the TV that didn’t work, and eventually fell asleep.
(c) 2004 Sarah Galbraith. All Rights Reserved.
I woke up again around 7:00 this time ready to get up. I got ready and decided that today I would either go to the Matterhorn (which is in Zermatt which meant taking a train to Lausanne and then to down to Zermatt—according to my guidebook) or try and go back to the zoo in Thoiry.
Now if you remember, my trip to the Thoiry zoo was unsuccessful. The hippos were a fair distance away and I couldn’t find anyone to help me. I decided that it was critical for me to make the effort to go back to the zoo and I would get the pictures there. Damn it.
Because of the thunderstorm this morning, I decided in my subconscious sleep that I would go to Thoiry today since there was no sense in seeing the Matterhorn on a cloudy and rainy day (even though the Matterhorn is a far distance from Geneva—who knew if it was raining there?). So I headed out of the hotel and tried to find a taxi.
I couldn’t find one at the taxi stand that I had seen earlier near my hotel so I started to walk in the general direction of the train station, which wasn’t far but a good distance across the lake from my hotel. I kept walking and walking and couldn’t’ find a tax stand anywhere. OF course there would be the odd taxi zooming by me, but they all seemed to be taken or on the other side of the road which was difficult to cross due to fencing and trams and such.
So just kept walking and walking and made it to the train station with just barely any time to spare to get the three hour train back to Paris. At this point I started to run and went up the steps and down the passage to the international trains to France. I ran up to the entrance to the platforms and found them closed. Because you have to go through customs to go into France you cannot just simply hop on the train with minutes to spare.
I had missed it. And the next train was not until 10am. So, exhausted and overheated, I sat down in a smoky café, got some breakfast and started reading my book to kill two hours.
Looking back on this, I guess I really should have scrapped my plans for France and headed to the Matterhorn anyways since I wasn’t’ going to get into Paris until 1:30 at this rate, let alone into Versailles where I needed to rent a car, let alone the zoo in Thoiry which is a good drive from Versailles. But I was stubborn and had set my mind to it.
I will get those pictures.
So I read my book and when the smoke got too much in the café I wandered and found an internet café in the train station. I had gotten a reservation for this 10 o’clock train to Paris so I wasn’t worried about missing it. When it was time, I headed to customs, was checked through (I don’t think they even looked at my passport) and soon I was sitting on the train heading to Paris.
I was absorbed in my book “Fast Food Nation” and sped through a good chunk of it before reaching Paris around 1:30—and any one who has ever read it will know, in three hours I was put off of meat—for good? Who knows. For now at least.
We pulled into the Gare de Lyon train station and I set about finding the subway station and getting the subway to the Invalides station, where I would then get the commuter train to Versailles. I felt like an old pro and walked with confidence to where I needed to go, getting on the subway and train like a real Parisian—reading my book the whole way.
I couldn’t believe that I was back in Paris—it almost felt like a time warp or something, even though I had just been here just a few days ago. I got off at Invalides and bought my ticket to Versailles and hopped on the next train.
Twenty-odd minutes later, I was in Versailles. Phew! I had made it this far. By this time however, it was going on 3 o’clock—due to all of the walking, switching trains, commuting on the subway, waiting in line, buying tickets, etc. etc. I just had a few hours before the zoo would even close, so I had to get my car and get on my way.
So I walked up to the trusty Avis counter where I had rented the car before but there was a couple ahead of me in line. They seemed to be renting a car (I know this sounds obvious but they could have been returning it) but I couldn’t really tell because the office was so small that I had to wait outside of it since the two of them were taking up most of the waiting area. I waited while the couple and the woman behind the desk (the same one I had before) laughed and laughed. They seemed to be sharing stories and just yapping away. It didn’t take long for me to get antsy.
While they talked on and on about god knows what (I decided at this point that they weren’t talking about renting cars) I grew more and more anxious. Time was ticking away and I knew that I needed o get a car quickly. If only I knew French I could speak out to the girl and ask her, but I had to just stand there and wait in line. Gradually I moved closer and closer to them, despite the lack of space, and they eventually realized I was there and said something along the lines of oh, we should go, she’s waiting. Then they started to fill out the frequent user card to get points for their rentals. The man was writing out his phone number (or address—something with numbers was all I gathered) and was exclaiming each number enthusiastically—taking precise care with each one as his wife and the Avis woman were laughing.
I couldn’t take it. I was just about to leave when finally, finally, finally they were done. They left and I almost collided with them as they went out of the office and I tried my best to dash in. I asked the girl if there were any cars available and she told me no.
Ohmigod.
I looked at my watch—almost 25 minutes had passed—what was I doing? It was now going on 3:25 pm and I needed to get a car and make it to the zoo. I glanced across the road and saw a Hertz rental agency and ran across it.
Luckily they did have cars available but it took some time filling out paperwork, getting the car ready, before they handed me the keys. The woman obviously couldn’t tell from the pleading look on my face or the stamping of my foot to realize that I was in a hurry. Oh! She says, you are from America! Ohhh….she talks enthusiastically with her coworker. I didn’t have time for this, I just needed a car.
Finally I was handed keys, given the car and was heading out of the parking lot. Only when I got on the main road did I realize that the tank to the car wasn’t full—it was only ¾ full which was annoying. How was I going to explain this to them when I returned the car—I didn’t want to pay for gas I didn’t use.
I didn’t have time to go back and sort this out so I kept driving and made it on to the freeway, double backed and was soon heading towards Thoiry. Funny that I actually remembered how to get there and also funny that I didn’t bring with me (due to forgetfulness) the maps to the zoo OR the street maps and also funny that the Hertz agency didn’t’ have any of these.
I followed the signs again, just when I got to that point of wondering where on earth the zoo was, I saw signs for Thoiry. I turned off of the main road, went through some small villages, and coasted down to the entrance to the zoo.
Glancing at my watch it read 4:45—perfect. Now I have at least an hour to get some pictures of the hippos and to get their names.
I pulled up to the ticket window, thrust out my credit card (for lack of cash—which I had also forgot) and the guy just looked at me. He took my card, went to swipe it and then said (in good but broken English) I can’t use this and hands the card back to me.
Good god, why?? I looked at him desperately and asked. Well, he says, the zoo closes in 15 minutes.
Oh man. The zoo closes at five?? Not six?? I looked at the times and sure enough, closes at 5pm on week days during September. Great. Just great. I took my card back and heaved a great big sigh but then decided, well, at least I will get their names. So I handed over my prepared and in French statement, “I love hippos—what are their names?” over to the guy.
He took it and thought it was hilarious. There was another guy in the booth with him and they both just shook their heads, but thankfully wrote down some names: Paulo, Paloma, Martine and Junior. I took the pad of paper back and thanked them, clarifying with them the names and the fact that there were just four hippos—which was weird cause I could have sworn that I saw five.
Never mind, at least I go their names. So I pulled a U-turn and headed back to—well, where? What was I going to do? According to my contact for the car, I was allowed only 100 kilometers to drive (which is like an hour’s worth of driving which is nothing-but I couldn’t’ refuse it since the rental was so last minute) and already I have put on something along the lines of 65 kilometers. There was no use me driving all the way back to Versailles to get a hotel—or to call it quits and go back to Geneva.
I needed to find a hotel in the area.
So I drove around more (adding more kilometers to the car) and eventually found a sign that read “Hotel, Restaurant.” So I pulled up, went in and completely took the owner by surprise in the fact that they probably hadn’t had anyone in a long time check into the hotel. There was a larger man behind the counter was like, are you sure? The hotel? And I was like, umm, yes, please.
A younger guy was sitting on a bar stool up at the bar and he just whistled—whatever that meant, I don’t know. I was shown to my room with the big man and his equally big dog who came up to my hips and the room turned out to be quite nice—two small beds, a bathroom and the peachy painted walls that I have been accustomed to in hotel rooms. He asked me if I wanted dinner (I said no thank you before I even thought which I regretted later) and he left me.
I didn’t know what to do with myself. It was just about 5:30 now so not only did I have time to kill but needed to now find some dinner. I finished up my book but only had about a chapter left anyways so this didn’t take long, tried to take a nap and then around 7 o’clock went in search of food.
I drove up to the main village of Thoiry, parked my car and set about finding dinner. There were three or so “restaurants” in the little main area bit—a pizzeria which was closed—another hotel that I must have passed by earlier that I didn’t see who refused to feed me since I wasn’t a hotel guest—and another bar which looked way too local for me to even approach without getting some good stares. I got back in the car and drove around a bit more—eventually finding another small town with its own grocery store where I bought a package of cookies, two sandwiches and pre-made salad. I bought my things, headed to my car (ignoring the stares and whistles) and drove back to my hotel where I ate my dinner in bed, fiddled with the TV that didn’t work, and eventually fell asleep.
(c) 2004 Sarah Galbraith. All Rights Reserved.
Monday, September 13, 2004
Lyon, France—Geneva, Switzerland—Day 226
After packing up my things this morning, walking my things down to the post office that I needed to mail home and mailing things home (much to the amusement of the postal worker for all that I was sending back), I then checked out of the hotel in Lyon and walked over to the train station near my hotel, heading for Geneva.
While there are no hippos in Geneva, I figured it would be a nice place to stop for a few days on my way up to Basel. I took the train over to the second train station in Lyon (literally called “Part Dieu”) and soon was heading to Geneva on a TGV express train.
The train ride to Geneva went really quickly—I was absorbed in my book “Fast Food Nation” and sped through a good chunk of it before reaching Geneva around three o’clock—and any one who has ever read it will know, in two hours I was put off of meat—for good? Who knows. For now at least. I found a taxi and went to my hotel, checked in and had to change my reservation to get a non-smoking room (despite protests from the receptionist who claimed that I didn’t request one but then found out that I actually did) and put my things down.
I then headed back out on the town, so to speak. I walked around, map in my bag just in case. I first headed down to Lake Geneva and walked along the water front in the Jardin Anglais and the famous floral clock. I then walked up the hill to the vielle Ville (the old quarter) and the beautiful Catedrale de St. Pierre. I climbed up the stairs of the north tower which has a great view over Geneva and the old town. I headed back down, purchased some postcards from the nice guy sitting at the small desk at the bottom of the stairs and avoided listening in on conversations in English.
I walked back down the hill and meandered in some shops for a bit before finding dinner at an Italian place which just so happened to be right next to a strip club. I didn’t notice this until I had ordered. In fact, you hardly realized it was there. Perhaps the most ironic thing was that there was a huge children’s carousel just down the street a ways, just feet from the restaurant and the club. No one seemed to really care that a children’s carousel and a strip club were just feet from one another. In America, this would be an outrage—a shocking scandal—a protest. But here in Geneva no one seemed bothered by it.
So while I dined on my spaghetti amongst the other tourists, children gleefully went around on their shining horses as their parents watched and only occasionally were you reminded of the club’s presence—when its thump thump thumping music briefly escaping during one’s entrance or exit through the huge black door. Everyone was just going about their own business.
(c) 2004 Sarah Galbraith. All Rights Reserved.
While there are no hippos in Geneva, I figured it would be a nice place to stop for a few days on my way up to Basel. I took the train over to the second train station in Lyon (literally called “Part Dieu”) and soon was heading to Geneva on a TGV express train.
The train ride to Geneva went really quickly—I was absorbed in my book “Fast Food Nation” and sped through a good chunk of it before reaching Geneva around three o’clock—and any one who has ever read it will know, in two hours I was put off of meat—for good? Who knows. For now at least. I found a taxi and went to my hotel, checked in and had to change my reservation to get a non-smoking room (despite protests from the receptionist who claimed that I didn’t request one but then found out that I actually did) and put my things down.
I then headed back out on the town, so to speak. I walked around, map in my bag just in case. I first headed down to Lake Geneva and walked along the water front in the Jardin Anglais and the famous floral clock. I then walked up the hill to the vielle Ville (the old quarter) and the beautiful Catedrale de St. Pierre. I climbed up the stairs of the north tower which has a great view over Geneva and the old town. I headed back down, purchased some postcards from the nice guy sitting at the small desk at the bottom of the stairs and avoided listening in on conversations in English.
I walked back down the hill and meandered in some shops for a bit before finding dinner at an Italian place which just so happened to be right next to a strip club. I didn’t notice this until I had ordered. In fact, you hardly realized it was there. Perhaps the most ironic thing was that there was a huge children’s carousel just down the street a ways, just feet from the restaurant and the club. No one seemed to really care that a children’s carousel and a strip club were just feet from one another. In America, this would be an outrage—a shocking scandal—a protest. But here in Geneva no one seemed bothered by it.
So while I dined on my spaghetti amongst the other tourists, children gleefully went around on their shining horses as their parents watched and only occasionally were you reminded of the club’s presence—when its thump thump thumping music briefly escaping during one’s entrance or exit through the huge black door. Everyone was just going about their own business.
(c) 2004 Sarah Galbraith. All Rights Reserved.
Sunday, September 12, 2004
Lyon, France—Day 225
Today I got up with the full intention of returning my rental car and going back up to Paris to get in the zoo at Thoiry for a second time. Unfortunately the rental agreement only allowed me 750 miles for three days and I had already driven that much. So I got up and worked on my photos before heading down to the train station. Two funny things about this hotel: in the lobby, the woman that has been working at the desk always brings her little dog in to work with her. The dog spends most of the day lounging in one area of the lobby to the next, always in a different place when I come down. When I came down this time, the dog was under this small table and the woman was drawing the curtains for the dog, so that the sun didn’t shine directly on it. I came down just as she was doing this (the dog is so small it looked like she wasn’t really talking to anything if you couldn’t see it) and she was sort of embarrassed that I caught her talking to her dog.
The other funny thing is that the door to the hotel is one of these automatic doors. I didn’t really know that you were supposed to press a button for it to open or close, so I have been walking up to it this whole time trying to get out and sometimes it opened and some times it wouldn’t. Other people would come and go and each time it would just open for them but for me it was like this struggle to stand in the right place (perhaps the sensor wasn’t working right) and part luck on my part to get it open. That is until a guy pointed out to me that there was a button to push.
Ohhh.
I went to return my car (a day early) I found the office to be closed on Sunday! Plus the offices for the rental agencies in Versailles were also closed.
Argh.
So it seemed like I just had to spend the day in Lyon. I ended up getting some lunch, going to the nice museum in town, finishing up my book, walking up to the Basilica and the overlooking view onto Lyon which was quite nice and meeting these two French ladies (one of whom lives in England near my grandparents) who were quite funny. They asked me if I had seen the pottery fair going on and I had no idea what they were talking about. Turned out that there were like 150 pottery stalls and a fair going on in the town and I didn’t even know it! So after the basilica I went down and wandered amongst the fair. I then went and saw a movie and had dinner at a Creperie before going back to the hotel.
(c) 2004 Sarah Galbraith. All Rights Reserved.
The other funny thing is that the door to the hotel is one of these automatic doors. I didn’t really know that you were supposed to press a button for it to open or close, so I have been walking up to it this whole time trying to get out and sometimes it opened and some times it wouldn’t. Other people would come and go and each time it would just open for them but for me it was like this struggle to stand in the right place (perhaps the sensor wasn’t working right) and part luck on my part to get it open. That is until a guy pointed out to me that there was a button to push.
Ohhh.
I went to return my car (a day early) I found the office to be closed on Sunday! Plus the offices for the rental agencies in Versailles were also closed.
Argh.
So it seemed like I just had to spend the day in Lyon. I ended up getting some lunch, going to the nice museum in town, finishing up my book, walking up to the Basilica and the overlooking view onto Lyon which was quite nice and meeting these two French ladies (one of whom lives in England near my grandparents) who were quite funny. They asked me if I had seen the pottery fair going on and I had no idea what they were talking about. Turned out that there were like 150 pottery stalls and a fair going on in the town and I didn’t even know it! So after the basilica I went down and wandered amongst the fair. I then went and saw a movie and had dinner at a Creperie before going back to the hotel.
(c) 2004 Sarah Galbraith. All Rights Reserved.
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