| Day 1: London to Paris Day 2: Versailles Day 3: Tours Day 4: Châteaux Day 5: Bordeaux |
Day 5: Bordeaux Saturday, 13 September, 2003 After a second brilliant night at the Regina Hotel we went to the train station to take another shot at getting to Mont-St-Michel. When it didn't appear feasible (how does any one get there?!?) we went with a backup plan and boarded a TGV to Bordeaux. I must say, up to this point the trip had gone almost perfectly--I guess it just couldn't last. Bordeaux, I'm afraid, was an almost complete failure. It started with us getting seats in a smoking car for the 2 1/2 hour ride from Tours to Bordeaux. Smoking cars in trains, in case you don't know, are about as pleasant to be in as a pile of festering manure. And, I expect, considerably less healthy. The cute little French women in the seats in front of us sucked on their cigarettes as if it would make the train go faster, almost burning their fingers as each cigarette burned to the filter. Then they lit another. Yuck. I couldn't wait to get out of the train in Bordeaux--the fresh air was very much needed. The city, however, wasn't at all what we had hoped it would be. I think we had envisioned some cute little village where pleasant shopkeepers stood around a picturesque square holding bottles of wine, gently pouring complimentary glasses for tired young travelers suffering from smoke inhalation. Instead we found a bustling city (with a decidedly Mediterranean feel, despite not being on the Mediterranean...) that is currently celebrating the installation of a new city-wide tram system by ripping up every possibly scenic place in the city. To top it off, a complete lack of signage and a tourist office that closed for either lunch or a siesta left us to fend for ourselves when it came to actually finding the main part of the city--which was not at all close to the train station. Add to all this unexpectedly hot weather. So, long story short, we ate lunch and got the hell out of Bordeaux. As we ran the 4 kilometers (I estimate that as about 9 gazillion miles in imperial measure) back to the train station I occasionally caught a glimpse of something pretty from behind a bull dozer or over a jersey barrier. So maybe I'll try Bordeaux again a couple decades after they've gotten their shit together. For now, though, Ben and I would like to start an initiative where every train station in France would be required to post large signs reading: "Attention: Bordeaux is celebrating l'Annee du Tram--so stay the hell out if you know what's good for you." It would have saved us 5 hours in a train. Argh. Back in Paris we returned to Le Village for one last night. The next morning, while Ben pursued train tickets to Madrid, I took a walk through central Paris stopping to by a couple Yann Tierson cd's at the Louvre Virgin Records. (The soundtrack to 'Good Bye Lenin!' is excellent.) On my way stopped in several parks--Paris is a beautiful place to be on a sunny Sunday morning. The Jardin des Tuilleries was full of joggers and bright flowers. The Jardin du Palais Royal was spectacular. It was a nice way to relax before heading back to Gare du Nord to catch the Eurostar to London.  Flowers in the Jardin du Palais Royal. |
 A big column in the middle of Bordeaux celebrating the fact that they didn't need to tear up this square to install Trams. Seriously, though, it's the Monument aux Girondins which commemorates the Girondists executed by Robespierre during the reign of terror.  This is the
McDonalds where Ben bought a burger after being unsatisfied by his
croque monsieur at a nearby cafe. I took this picture to
illustrate the clear inferiority of McDonald's buildings in Europe to
those in America. The sculpted stone smiling faces at our
McDonald's facades are much finer. Right.
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