- Blue skies and white snow in Bern
- La Fourmi cafe, and Leo
- Lewis' apartment in Paris
I had another mega breakfast at Landhaus. Albert was back, and he was on top form; making jokes and being extra helpful. I asked him if he was in fact Albert, and he said "as good as". I'm not sure what that means exactly.
I packed up and headed into town. It had stopped snowing, and the skies were clear blue.
Occasionally the wind disturbed the snow on the trees, and so there were mini-snowfalls all along my route to the station. It was only a 4h train ride, but I stopped off at a Migros supermarket to stock up on supplies. It was huge! It sold all your standard groceries, but then had specialist counters selling clothing, flowers and even plaster of paris ornaments. I stocked up on water and supermarket swiss chocolate products to fulfill my gift quota. Sub-standard chocolate coming your way soon, friends and family. You lucky devils.
There was a panicked moment at the station when the lady told me you HAD to reserve a seat to Paris and then pulled a face when I asked if there were seats any left today. "I don't think so", she said, shaking her head. "We only allocate a few seats for interrailling". A minute later, she surprised herself by finding nine free seats. She seemed slightly annoyed to have made my trip so easy. I imagine she got some sort of sadistic pleasure out of sending heavily bag-laden travellers back to their hostels. But still, she reluctantly booked me on a train leaving in 5minutes, so I raced along Bern station to the Gleis (remember, that's platform in German), hitting numerous people with my heavy chocolate bag (I've had the German word "Entshuldigen" to hand from day 1 of this trip. I can't count how many times I've had to use it for pedestrians and, more commonly, cyclists, when they've had to skid to the side after I've plonked myself unexpectedly on their paths). I just made the train, and we pulled out of the station and headed to Basel SBB.
(Just a note for travellers, there's a Basel SBB and a Basel BBB. Very different, and about a 10minute train ride from each other. I almost got off at BBB on the way out before discovering last minute that it was the wrong station for international connections. Close call.)
I stopped off at Bretzelkonig (I'm presuming the translation is Pretzel King) at Basel station, and ordered a coffee. I clearly only speak Bavarian German, as when I asked for "only milk", the Swiss guy dumped some sugar in and then went on to the next customer. It wasn't good coffee, even with the sugar. Don't go there. Fortunately queuing at Bretzelkonig gave me a chance to see my Swiss hero for a second.
There was a delay to the Paris train, but I settled in to read some more of my wine tasting guide. I'm almost a pro, I think. I know all about tannins and acidity, and the whole wine making process. I can defining almost tell a Claret from a Beaujolais. The train filled up a little, with a ridiculous number of young babies. There must have been some sort of baby expo happening in Bern that weekend. Or some baby disciplinary event, as they were all crying.
We got moving after 30minutes, and were soon in France (according to my Orange advice texts, which have generally kept me informed on my whereabouts throughout). A French family of three sat down on the table opposite. There was a cute kid who the mum was making giggle by blowing raspberries in his hand. I glanced at the dad and he was looking annoyed. Odd. The kid went and stood near the door by his dad and was fiddling with something when the dad snapped and forcefully grabbed his arm to yank him away. Unsurprisingly, the kid started bawling it. Great. Me and another woman who'd been laughing at the cute kid, looked at each other in horror. The mum blew a few more raspberries and all was fine again, and the dad tried to join in too. I'm suspicious that he was just trying to save face after appearing so brutal to the kid.
We arrived at Paris Gare de Lyon at 4pm. I didn't have a map, but somehow figured we were in the South East. I needed to pick up the key from the apartment I was staying in and I'd also agreed to meet Leonor, my Parisian friend from university. She lived a few stops out into the suburbs from Place de Clichy, and we'd agreed to meet near Blanche for dinner. I was a little early so I grabbed a few Metros to the nearby Pigalle, and found a cool bar near the station called La Fourmi on Rue des Martyrs. This is in the Montmartre part of town, the area which includes the Sacre Coeur, the artist market, and then the seedy Pigalle section. It's where Amelie is set, so I love it.
La Fourmi was sort of a grungy hip bar, filled with a mix of young and old locals. Wine for €2.90. I had a Syrah, and sat trying to swirl the wine in this tiny glass to release the flavours. Limited success.
I was sending a innuendo-filled, flirty message to a friend of mine, when I accidentally glanced up and caught the eye of the bartender, who gave me a wink. I must have carried the flirtness in my gaze. Whoops. This carried on the whole evening, when I kept accidentally sending him cheeky looks. It made for an awkward moment at the bar when I think he assumed I'd come to follow-up, and I just wanted another drink. I kept myself occupied waiting for Leo, by texting my friend Lewis (whose apartment I was staying at)
to rub in the fact I was in a cool bar in Paris whilst he was still in London, attempting some French. He was arriving the next day, but instead of writing 'Je te vois demain' (or on se vois), meaning 'I see you tomorrow', I wrote 'Je te veux'. You guys can google that. Glad I used it on him and no one else.
Lewis recommended I use it on a local hottie (I'm not sure he used the word hottie). At that exact moment, I felt someone approach the table. 'Helloooo', I thought. Now might be the time. I looked up to find a cross between Einstein, Robin Williams and the stoned photo hut guy from That 70s Show. He wanted to charge his laptop in my socket (calm down, it was next to my table). Perhaps not the time.
Leo arrived, and it was refreshing to see a familiar face after a few weeks away. I was collecting her apartment key to pass on to our Dutch friend Marthe, and her new husband* who were coming to Paris that week. Leo now had an internship in London, so unfortunately wouldn't be there as well. She'd just finished studying Law (Europeans seem to study FOREVER) and would be in London for 2months working for Total (the energy company). We sat chatting for a while, before I headed off to the metro to go to Lewis' apartment.
I stayed here for 10 days in July, so it was cool to notice that I remembered a lot of the area. Rather than change lines, I got off two stops away from Lewis' local metro Wagram and found my way back to his apartment on Rue Ampere. His housemate Isabelle let me in, and I dumped my heavy bags in relief. In July, I'd accidentally locked Lewis' keys in his flat ten minutes after arriving (let's not talk about that) so Isabelle had let me in before, and must think I'm a little bit special. She was studying film editing and had a beginning of term party that night to go to. We sat in their cool living room (it feels like a New York Artist apartment to me. Everything is white, the walls are bare apart from dvds and paintings resting on the floor against them, and there are huge windows looking out onto the street. There are a line of glassed doors leading into the living room as well. One of the coolest apartments I've been to) and talked for a while about film, weather and the future, before I went to bed on the most uncomfortable mattress known to humanity.
End of day 28.
* So in late September, I flew to Holland to go to Marthe's wedding. After a night in Amsterdam with my friend Jonny, I'd headed to Utrecht and met up with Marthe and Leonor. After a great weekend (seriously great. We cycled to and from the church for the wedding. Crazy), I was sitting at Amsterdam airport reluctantly waiting to fly home when this whole trip suddenly occurred to me. So rather than think about it too much, whilst sitting there I just booked my one way ticket to Berlin for 8 days later, and my interrailing pass. Bosh. So meeting Leo and Marthe in Paris felt like a great rounding off of the whole experience.
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