We left off with me standing at the train station with a pack of dogs or possibly wolves howling in the woods on the other side of the track. At 1:30 pm my train to Nice arrived as scheduled. I knew that this had to be my train because not only was it right on time, but because no other trains had traveled through here since I got off the train that brought me here two hours ago. Oddly, the train began travelling northwest rather than the southeast direction to Nice. Since my train schedule showed that the station was the end of the line, I assumed that the train was just backing up to change tracks and then head southeast. The conductor collected my ticket and said, in French, that my ticket was to Nice. It then sounded like he was telling me that the train was continuing further northwest. Using my limited French skills, I said, ” the train will go to Nice?” The conductor nodded in an affirmative manner and held up five fingers, as if to say “in five minutes.” We then stopped at a train station and the conductor asked me to leave the train. Huh ??? The train station was basically a bus stop along the tracks with no proper village behind it, only a couple of farmhouses and a barn. I wondered if there would be wolves howling in the woods across from this station as well. Why was he asking me to get off ? I did not know how to talk my way out of this in French so, I had to resort to making simple sentences in English such as, ” I would like to stay on this train until we get to Nice. I will be glad to pay.” He shrugged his shoulders in a gesture of saying that I was making a big mistake. At the next station, a southeastern bound train passed us. The conductor then walked up to me and said, ” you see the train to Nice?” I said no. I then asked the other train passengers, ” Se Train va a Nice?” They nodded their heads in an affirmative manner. We then continued further and stopped at a village called Puget Theniers. The conductor then motioned everyone off of the train. WTF ????? Then the train passengers and the conductor walked in the direction of a bus. At this point I panicked and ran up to the conductor saying, ” Msr! Msr! Je voudrais plus informacion!” He then pointed to a different train schedule than the one that I had been using and said “16.30 heures, l’train a Nice.” Then he and the other train passengers left on the bus going who knows where. I then stood outside the small brick train station figuring out what I was supposed to do. Then, a middle aged man with glasses walked away from the bus and then walked toward the station. He looked like an employee of the rail line in his shirt and tie. As he walked up I asked, ” Bonjeur Msr. Je voudrais un billet a Nice sil vous plait.” He responded by making a snide remark to me that I did not understand. I followed him into the station and stood at the ticket window. He sat at a desk behind the window and ignored me, not selling me a train ticket. At this point, my experience was taking on the scary, abandoned quality of a bad trip or a nightmare. I began walking down a road that ran along the edge of the village. My stomach was churning and I was on the verge of having an explosive gastrointestinal attack. Walking into the center of the village, I found a public restroom. Exploring further, I saw a sign that said tourism office. In there was a young woman who spoke no English whatsoever. I asked where the bus station was by saying, ” ou ee l’gare routiere sil vous plait ?” She pointed to the right and said, ” a droit; cent metres.” I then said, ” Je besoin un autobus a nice.” She then dutifully pulled out a bus schedule that showed that there was a bus to Nice at 6:30 that arrived in Nice at 8:30 pm. I thanked her and left. After walking the 100 meters to the right, I found a bus stop, but no bus station selling tickets. I then retreated to the coffee shop in the center of town and ordered a cappucino. The barrister looked upon me with suspicion, as if I was some kind of foreign drifter who didn’t have any business there. As I sat down with my coffee, I realized that he was exactly right. It’s just that I was given misinformation by the people on the train. I sat there wondering if the train, which was still sitting abandoned on the track , was really going to go to Nice at 4:30 pm. I wondered if the bus driver would let me get on the 6:30 bus without a ticket. I saw no hotels or inns in the village. On top of that, the weather had become cloudy, windy and cold. I was wearing a short sleeved shirt, but the locals were wearing light jackets to keep warm. I prayed to God to get me out of this. I then got in touch with the living presence inside my head, hands and heart. This intentional state lasted about thirty seconds until I was overwhelmed by a feeling of impending doom. Eventually, I had overstayed my welcome at the coffee shop and felt that I should leave. But go where ? I ambled back to the train station and walked inside to escape the cold wind. There was another train passenger buying a ticket from the man who had snubbed me earlier. How come the man behind the ticket window was selling the ticket to the other passenger but not to me? I then walked to the ticket window and said the same words that I had said earlier, ” good day sir. I would like a ticket to Nice please.” He then said something in French and looked right at me. I guessed that he was asking if I wanted the next train to Nice so I pointed to the abandoned train and said, ” Oui msr. En l’train ici.” The man then smirked and made an offhand remark to another man in the room with him. He then turned back around and wrote something on a sheet of paper, which he then showed me. He had written 8 euro 20 centimes. He then tapped on the 20 centime number. “Avais Vous?” he said. He was asking me for a 20 centime coin so that he didn’t have to make as much change. I quickly dug into my pocket for the coin and found it. He then handed me my ticket and change. I looked at the abandoned train and saw a woman inside the train, reading a book. I found the train unlocked and sat down. Then, a train engineer came out of the station and started pressing the start button on the instrument panel. After a couple of minutes of false starts the train finally cranked. The engineer then left the train. At 4:30 the train did not leave as scheduled. Nor at 4:35 or 4:40. Dear God let this train start traveling down to Nice ! The anxiety was unnerving. At 4:45 a bus drove into town and stopped. The bus passengers exited the bus and entered the train. It was standing room only. At 4:50 pm the train began travelling south. I thanked God for deliverance from the evil that had befallen me. An hour and a half later, we arrived in Nice and I returned to my hotel. I have since done some internet research on this village and discovered that it is a distance of sixty kilometers from Nice. It also turns out that that there are indeed no hotel accomodations there, only a campground outside the city limits. You can see from the pictures below that it might be a pleasant place to visit if you have reliable transportation out of town. But this was the worst travel predicament that I have ever been in !
With relief,
I.C.
