We Made It!

I am writing this on the train just outside of Geneva. So despite the strike, we’ve managed to make it to Switzerland, but not without a few hitches! We discovered Thursday night that indeed our train had been cancelled for the following evening, so we all skipped school on Friday to try to get seats on an earlier departure. From Avignon to Lyon, despite the train being 1/2 hour late, all went well; so far, so good! We were hoping that our transfer to a train from Lyon to Annemasse would be just as easy.

The train station at Lyon was very busy as many people were setting out on their holiday travels. When we looked to confirm the schedule for our train trip to Annemasse, we saw the unexpected: “Sortie - velette autobus”. After seeing our confused expressions, a kind young lady nearby explained that this meant we would have to exit the train station to catch a bus instead of the train. She also adviced us to get out there as early as possible as it would be very crowded; our hopes of continued smooth sailing were quickly deflated.

And, crowded it was! We walked out to the bus platform where throngs of travellers were hoping to get a place on buses that were chartered by the train station to try to move travellers left stranded by the strike. We spoke to one official holding a clipoboard, and he told us that there was a bus arriving shortly and heading in our direction, but he said it would be difficult to get on. He added that there was another bus coming, but not for another 3 hours and with no guarantee of getting on it either. Instantly, I had flashbacks to being stranded at the airport in Paris.

When the first bus pulled up there was an unorganized mass of hopeful travellers pushing forward to get their luggage on, and this is where Barry headed into with our luggage. Another crowd pushed toward the bus entrance, and the girls and I tried our best to make some headway there. Needless to say, with a 4 and 7 year old in tow, we couldn’t get too near the door and sure enough, with the bus filled we were left stranded with the other unlucky ones in the parking lot.

I should note that although eager to make it on a bus, no-one seemed angry. I heard one man as we squeezed to get near the bus door say “C’est de fou” (this is crazy), but he had a bemused look on his face. Barry overheard a man say, “C’est la conséquence de la liberté” (this is a consequence of liberty), as he shrugged his shoulders.

So, liberty left us to settle down on a nearby curb for a three hour wait to maybe get on a bus. Thoughts turned to finding a hotel room in Lyon.

But, about 20 minutes into our wait, an unexpected bus appeared. Barry caught a glimpse of a little white paper in the front window with “Annemasse” written in marker, While the driver pulled out a map of France and studied it, Barry sprang into action. He approached the clipboard man and asked if it was at all possible to get on the bus, as we had two young children. Bingo! It got us a parting of the crowd and four seats on the coach. Bravo, Barry!

We had no idea how long the trip would take, but were relieved to have made if off our post on the curb. After almost 3 hours we arrived at the train station in Annemasse. (The trip was a little longer than need be as we had a few unnecessary detours. The busdriver maybe should have studied that map a little harder, as even Grace noted several times, “Hey, haven’t we already drove past here?”).

I’ve been reminded as I’ve admired the view while writing how beautiful and scenic Switzerland is. We're happy to have arrived.

A suivre

.....les manifestations, les pénuries d'essence, opération d'escargot, prendre en otage, être solidaire du mouvement, les casseurs, un bras de fer entre le gouvernement et les syndicats, droit de déblocage, la réforme de retraites......

While on one hand I still haven't worked up the courage to go and get a haircut here for fear of not being able to express myself properly and ending up with a Barry special, on the other, I feel my ability to discuss a strike using accurate French vocabularly is progressing by leaps and bounds, if I do say so myself! Everything I had read about the history and culture of protesting and striking in this country certainly seems to have been of no exaggeration, as we are currently experiencing firsthand. In comparison with scenes we are watching on the television from other French cities, tensions remain mild here in Avignon. However, there definitely is a sense of uncertainty in the air as to when and if the protests will escalate.

Grace is developing at an early age, as perhaps all French children do, an interest in the how and why of strikes. I overheard her tell a little Canadian friend on the phone that school here is great because the teachers love to strike. She has witnessed great masses walking and chanting in the streets. She is especially fascinated with the striking youths (which in Avignon are the older Lycée students aged 15 to 18, and not yet the university students). Early this morning she went running to the window as a group noisily marched down our street with their stash of green garbage cans that they use in their blockades.

The gas shortages due to blockades at the petrol refineries and depots have been causing headaches for drivers. My professer told us this morning that "il a pris ses précautions"; he had filled his tank and several gas cans earlier this week. As we walk, scooter, or bus everywhere in town, this hasn't been a concern for us.

But, the train schedules, now this is an immediate concern to us. Again more interest and disbelief from Grace that a strike doesn't only mean days off of school and teenagers playing with green bins, but something that could affect, and even cancel, our school holiday plans! We have train tickets to Switzerland for tomorrow evening, and Barry just read that the same train this evening is cancelled according to a strike schedule. Not sure what this means for tomorrow's schedule, but we may very well have to be flexible with our holiday plans, as I am sure will many French families. We will see what tomorrow and the next few days hold in store.

Another new french phrase for me: "à suivre" or as we say in English: "to be continued".....

La boîte de nuit

New pillow: check.

New mattress from Jimmy: check.

No longer 35 degrees in our apartment during the nights: check.

4 year old daughter no longer waking up bi-nightly to tell us she hates school: check.

Barry and Ginger now having great, restful sleeps. Yeah, not so much.

In our home back in Canada the nights are usually very quiet. Apart from the odd dog barking or coyote howling, or the random drug house explosion, or the infrequent car skidding of the road on icy mornings, waking up because of outside noise is uncommon. I have never lived in a city and so the night time sounds of people walking by, cars starting, garage doors opening, are still all things to which I am trying to get accustomed. I think that it is not so difficult for Barry, perhaps because he is not as light of a sleeper, and perhaps from his years of living in downtown Vancouver. For me, I’ve resorted to using ear plugs every night, and it worked for me.

Until the music started.

And not even real music at that. A thumping, repetitive bass with an irregular rhythm: thump, thump, thump, quiet for 20 seconds, thump, thump, thump, thump, quiet for 10 seconds. And it gets going well after midnight, 2 a.m. until 4 a.m. is a good rule of thumb. I’ve tried the 3 pronged course of defence: a) ear plugs b) duvet over my ear c)electric fan on full blast, even though quite chilly in our small bedroom these nights. Still, thump, thump, thump, 23 second pause etc.

And, not even Barry can remain sleeping through it. A few nights ago as we lay awake trying to figure out where the music came from, why it started so late, why it is only on some nights, and why no French people were phoning to make noise complaints, Barry said “I feel like this music is controlling my heart beat”. “Exactly”, I replied. It really makes us a little crazy.

So, Saturday night at 1:13 a.m., after several nights of lying awake obsessing about this heart controlling beat, Barry sat up, told me he was going on “a reconaissance”, pulled on his leg and shorts and headed out into the night.

He followed the noise outside of the city walls, across the highway, next to the police headquarters, to, voila!, a large white building housing, “une boîte”, a night club - opened Thursday to Sunday night from 11:00p.m. until 6:00 a.m.

Mission accomplished, mystery solved.

Now, if this was me, as soon as I had the answer, I would have headed back to report my findings. But, even in the early hours, with his pajama tops on, Barry couldn’t pass on the opportunity to visit and maybe make a new friend. So, he approached 2 guys in their nightclub gear who were busy chatting up 3 young ladies, and said “Hey, c’est une boîte de nuit?” One fellow turned, smiled, and did a little dancing motion while answering “Oui, oui, un discothèque”. Barry was encouraged. So, he started to explain, all in his tired, middle of the night French, how there was a great mystery, he sleeps and then he doesn’t sleep, something about his heartbeat, and then the friend making ended pretty soon after. I guess even friendly, young frenchmen excited to share the news about “un disco” can become weary of a rambling, sleep deprived, pajama wearing, étranger.

Barry returned home and downloaded half a dozen white noise applications on our i-touch while listening to the Canuck’s game until 5:00 a.m., while the thump thump continued. I’m not convinced that the white noise applications will be the solution, as our cheap, Castorama fan is abnormally loud, and we hear the bass over it. But maybe, if we use the new speakers we bought...

At the very least, it won’t be as cold.

Grace and Lily About Town

Yesterday, Grace and Lily wanted to take you to some of their favourite spots in Avignon.

Enjoy the tour!