Avignon to Barcelona
Here I thought it’d be a lovely train trip from Avignon to Barcelona. High speed, smooth tracks, and possibly fewer folks in the carriage. After all, it’s mid-week, off season and the weather was cool and rainy. See what thinking gets me?
As seems to be the case with me and trains (at least recently, here in Europe), I got the, IMHO, worst seat possible. I was crammed once again in the stupid seats in the middle of the carriage where there is a table between two sets of facing seats. No legroom. No arm room. And the train was full. I had to keep my small pack on my lap (at least my big pack was safely squirreled away), since there was no effing room for my even my semi-big feet underneath, let alone them plus my bag.
For four interminable hours.
On the bright side was that, even though I was legitimately trapped and couldn’t stretch my legs into the aisle, my window seat was fully windowed and provided a decent view of the passing French and Spanish countryside. Heck, I even got a new birb on the ol’ Life List as we went. I think that was the highlight. The only one. Maybe getting eyeballed constantly from a woman across the aisle and down a row might have been a highlight. She found me interesting, but much like driving past a wreck you have to look at or for another reason, I have no idea. Never saw her again after disembarking, and we never spoke. I think she was sizing me up for a ritual sacrifice, so bullet dodged. 👍
Arrived, yay, and after a short stint dedicated solely to stretching and pain, I was able to walk again. I’d booked a place about a fifteen minute walk from the station. The place isn’t bad. It’s not the Ritz, either. Spartan as all get out. One chair (plastic), one towel, one bathmat, no tissues, no desk. At least there is toilet paper though. Shower is decent and the bed reasonably comfortable. They advertised coffee in the lobby. Nah. There is an electric kettle, which I had to fill, and some tea and various sweeteners. Not even a Nescafe packet in sight. So I’m gonna have to call “Negatory Ghostrider” on the coffee claim. I’m only here two nights, so as Gloria Gaynor belted out, I will survive.
I dropped off my stuff, and since it was relatively early, I headed out. Figuring out how to get a local transport card took a lot longer than it should have. (Direct tap on/off with a credit card didn’t seem to work for me, despite the signs saying it would, and a transport card would ultimately cost about half of tap on/off anyway.)
I tried several machines, none of which would accept my card. Apparently, I wasn’t giving it enough time. Someone from the office saw me in distress, and came to help. Apparently, if I left my card in the reader for about 20 seconds, it seemed to work. Hmm. I think he did some magic, and it had nothing to do with the timing. Or by changing the language setting, I disabled the machine. I’m going with that one.
Anywhoodles, off I went. Por supuesto, I went to La Sagrada Familia first. It was just a few stops down the metro anyway, so sure, why not.
It’s large. Its impressive. It’s crass. It’s by Gaudí, but holy hell, it’s gaudy. And astoundingly ugly. And after spending a mere twenty minutes walking around it (dodging buskers and street sellers), past every global commercial enterprise (SBux, KFC, McD, etc.), I’d had enough. No way was I going to pay anything to go inside. I fully expect it to be solely a gift shop and nothing else. I dropped back down into the metro and headed back to my neighborhood. I’ll walk it and find local stuff instead.
Which I did. I found a local bakery (great, BTW) a nice little grocery and an Indian food place that had good chicken curry for the same price as a coffee adjacent to the Sagrada monstrosity.
I can’t complain about the weather, though. I was in shirt sleeves for the first time since probably I arrived in Amsterdam three months ago. No sweatshirt, no beanie, no buff. I might even go with shorts later, since the temp will be approaching 20°C/70°F. My respite from the beanie will be short-lived, however. I’m heading into the mountains tomorrow, and the forecast is for cold: 4°C/30°F for the high. Yikes.
Soon though, soon, I’ll not be needing a beanie.
Be kind and take care of yourselves. If you can, care for someone else, too.
Slang, out.