Tag Archives: charles de gaulle airport

Wednesday 13th July 2016 – I’M BACK …

… in Leuven. My stay back in France didn’t last too long, did it?

I had another good sleep, only having to leave the bed once. Well, twice actually, but seeing that the second time was 05:50, just 10 minutes before the alarm was due to go off, I didn’t bother going back downstairs. Instead, I dressed and went down to make breakfast.

By the time that I had done that, made my butties for lunch and had a shower and change of clothes, it was 07:10 and Terry was ready so we hit the road.

It was a beautiful drive right across France to the Rhône valley and Lyon, and we were there on the outskirts of the city by 09:20. The next 6 kilometres was a different proposition. With the traffic queue that we encountered and then the changes to Lyon’s road network that weren’t shown on Terry’s Satnav, it was 10:10 when we arrived at the station. It’s a good job that we had allowed plenty of time for the journey.

There was however plenty of time for a coffee as the TGV was late arriving. 11:00 was the time of departure, but we finally set off at 11:25. We stopped at Marne la Vallée, Paris Charles de Gaulle and Lille as I expected, but also at Haute-Picardie and Arras which I hadn’t realised. Consequently it was 15:30 when we pulled into Bruxelles-Midi.

The journey wasn’t boring though. I did a pile of work on my website, though and I was sitting next to a woman whose father was born in Les Ancizes. We had a lengthy chat about the Auvergne, and she and I set the world to right about the Brexit. It’s not very often that I meet someone who thinks along my lines.

A brief amount of excitement at Bruxelles-Midi was when I bought my ticket for my onward trip to Leuven. I used one of the automatic machines and I received my ticket, plus one from the previous passenger who had clearly forgotten to pick it up. I had to find an information booth to leave it there.

15:56 was my train to Leuven, and by 16:30 I was there on the station. And it was pouring down too. It started almost as soon as we arrived at Charles de Gaulle and had continued for almost all the way. Typical Northern French and Belgian weather.

It soon brightened up though and so I set off for my place of residence. Half an hour’s brisk walk it took me to arrive here and that was carrying a large bag too. That made me think how much my health must have improved. I would never have done this two or three months ago, and round about now i ought to be experiencing a collapsed blood count and expecting a blood transfusion instead.

It’s nice to be back in my little room again, even if I am moving on to another room tomorrow. I grabbed a coffee and sat down for a relax. Tea was rice with lentils peas and carrots and it was delicious too. I must remember to buy some more boulghour tomorrow.

Now, I’m going to have an early night. After my marathon voyage today, I reckon that I’ve earned it.

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Thursday 9th October 2014 – WELL, I WAS RIGHT ABOUT ONE THING.

I missed the connection at Brussels.

And not by 5 or 10 minutes either, but by a whopping couple of hours too. It took all night to evacuate this ill person and her baggage and we were about a couple of hours late before we took to the sky.

The flight itself and the food were excellent but the in-flight entertainment was rather rubbish. There wasn’t a single film that I was interested in seeing. On the Sports Channel however there was the World Cup semi-final between Brazil and Germany from 2014- the match where in a devastating spell of just 6 minutes half-way through the first half the Germans totally demolished the Brazilians.

At Brussels, those of us with onward journeys to attend to had to regroup in order to see what they airline had in store for us. For me, they could move me onwards to Paris via … errrr … Frankfurt am Main. That was clearly out of the question. However, there was one person who was flying on to Lyon and so that gave me an idea. When I was at Montreal I heard them call an Air Transat flight to Lyon and while I’m not overly impressed with Air Transat, I still put into the back of my mind the idea to go around to the airport at Lyon to see what I could see and to spy out the land.

This seemed like the opportunity and so I made the appropriate noises at the airport staff. There was indeed flight to Lyon but at 17:00 in the afternoon, meaning that I had 5 hours to kill. A meal voucher for €16:00 to compensate me in part for the inconvenience meant that I could have a meal but even that voucher only made a slight hole in the price of the meal, prices in Belgium being what they are. But nevertheless, the choices of meal here seem to be better than what was on offer when I was stranded at Paris Charles de Gaulle last year.

zaventam brussels national airport belgium october 2014For the rest of my stay in Brussels, I also took the opportunity to go for a wander around the airport, inside and outside. It’s been a long time, 9 years in fact, since I’ve been here and there was a time when I was here a couple of times a week, back in the good old days.

So braving the horrendous weather outside, because it really was bad outside, I went for a look around.

zaventam brussels national airport belgium october 2014There have been some tremendous changes to the airport in this time. Outside, there’s an enormous amount of redevelopment and much of the old building is being swept away and replaced ith more modern stuff.

There have been even more changes inside the place. A huge programme of expansion has taken place with all kinds of new terminals and departure gates and I do have to admit that it is quite a significant leg-up from how it all used to be in the past.

The plane to Lyon was one of these small 70-seater things with about 40 passengers on it. The flight took a quite reasonable 75 minutes which wasn’t bad at all, even if there was no special meal for me. That came as no surprise seeing as how I’d chopped and changed from one flight to another – it can’t be helped. I was glad that I had had a meal at Zaventam. And descending into Lyon through a thunderstorm, we were being tossed around like a cork on the ocean. Not for the faint-hearted, this descent.

Lyon was a very nice airport, quite modern and up-to-date, and the tram connection to town, quite shockingly expensive at €15:70, was nevertheless straighforward and direct, to right opposite the main railway station in town. No issues whatever with this at all (apart from the cost of course).

The ticket for the train to Riom cost a mere €16:00 with my senior citizen’s railcard (and that puts into perspective the astonishing price of the tram ticket) but there was a wait of 100 minutes for my train. No mind – it gave me an opportunity to look around outside the station. In the square behind the railway station there were all kinds of food shops, including a Subway sandwich store so I grabbed a foot-long vegetarian and orange juice there – that was tea sorted out.

Further investigation revealed that just a 10-minute stagger away from here is one of these Premier Class tourist hotels. A modern unit-type hotel with en-suite facilities.

So the verdict on Lyon as a departure point for Montreal? Well, even if the only flight offered is an Air Transat service, then I am no longer going to struggle all of the way out to Paris Charles de Gaulle. Apart from the tram fare, everything else that I would need is right here in front of me at Lyon, much more so than at the airport hotels in Paris. There will also be a saving of over €200 on my travelling costs and that, dear reader, is all that you need to know.

The train to Riom presented no problems whatever, and Terry was there to meet me at the station. Liz and Terry offered me a bed for the night, for which I was extremely grateful, and I was out like a light. It had been a long day.

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Thursday 28th August 2014 – HERE I AM …

tgv lille paris charles de gaulle airport france… hurtling along on the TGV at 300kph on my way to the airport.

It was basically a good plan to stay in Lille. 10 minutes or so from the TGV station along a downhill slope, an alarm call that would have awoken the dead, a decent and copious self-service breakfast and then a pleasant stroll through the morning … errr … rain.

The train was on time too and finding a trolley at the top of the lift meant that I had one of the most relaxing arrivals ever at an airport.

armed soldier patrol airport charles de gaulle paris franceIt wasn’t to last, though. First thing that I encountered was a soldier on patrol, armed with a machine gun.

We all laughed at the Eastern European countries in the 1960s and 1970s with their soldiers patrolling the streets with their weapons at the ready. How Krushchev and Honecker would be laughing up their sleeves if they were ever to see this here on the streets in the West.

Not only that, can you imagine what carnage might happen to innocent bystanders if 600 rounds per minute were ever sprayed at a fleeing suspect? Something like this, I image, only much much worse.

Not only that, we had an unattended bag (did someone forget their wife?). This caused the terminal to be evacuated. I can’t think why – everyone knows that most suicide bombers these days go up with their luggage. “This is a Public Service Announcement – Abdul the Suicide Bomber Has Just Gone Off On Holiday”.

Anyway, it frightens everyone and ratchets the terror up another few notches so that the next wave of restrictions on personal liberties can come into force without any opposition.

We’ve often heard it said that “why didn’t the people in Germany – or in the USSR – or in France in World War II – rise up against their oppressors?” Well, where’s the uprising in the West?

After that, we were treated to the disagreeable spectacle of a girl about 8 years of age being given a pat-down search. I shall refrain from passing any kind of comment whatever about what might be going through the minds of the people who apply for this kind of job. You can think of your own.

At the check-in, I asked for an aisle seat. “Take this for now” said the girl at check-in, and ask at the reception area.

At the reception area, I was told “you need to chat to the people who welcome you on board the plane”.

And at the boarding of the plane, I was told, as indeed you might have expected, “you should have asked at the check-in”. Yes, another nasty letter on the way to Air Canada. You don’t even get this miserable treatment with a bucket shop airline like Air Transat and Ryanair.

air canada boeing 787 dreamliner pierre trudeau airport montreal
Still, the flight was a new Dreamliner 787 and even hemmed in a row of 4 people, I’ve had much worse. A good selection of films (I watched The Desolation of Smaug [2013] and Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, and there would have been a few others that I would have been happy to see as well.

The vegan meal was excellent too and so I don’t have any complaints on that score either, but they could have been a little more generous with the coffee.

quality hotel dorval montreal canadaI’m staying again at the Quality Inn on the Cote de Liesse in Dorval, just down the road from tha airport. I stayed here last year and so I can pinch that photo.

It’s a nice hotel, not too far from the airport, and the service buses pass by on their way to the Metro, so it suits me fine. Especially as a 3-day pass on the public transport costs just $18:00.

rotten dodge caravan montreal canadaSo last night I went for a walk. Nowhere particular – I just caught the bus and then the Metro to a random station and then walked back some of the way. I didn’t see anything in particular, except this car, to prove that I’m in North America.

I’m not talking about the car itself – you can see them everywhere – but I’m talking about the body rot. When did you last see a car like that? In Europe, I welded a few up like that in the 80s but nothing since.

Anyway, after that, I went to the Cote des Neiges for my assiette falafel and my frozen sorbet next door, and back home.

And just for a change, I got off the bus at the correct bus stop.

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Tuesday 15th October 2013 – I changed my plans a little this morning.

I didn’t have too much to eat last night as there wasn’t all that much in the vicinity of my hotel. I had to walk for almost ever until I found a “Quick” that sold me some chips. Consequently I paid €5:95 and had the breakfast here.

hotel ibis budget etap paris airport charles de gaulleA wise decision, that, because I would have paid much more than that for a couple of coffees along the route, so when you add the orange juice, the toast and the half-baguette with strawberry jam into the equation (and when did you ever see strawberry jam in little squeezy tubes?) I more-than-had my money’s worth and that will keep me going for quite a while.

I had a good night’s sleep too. Not a single mosquito bit me and not a single fly entered into the room to buzz around my head at 04:00 in the morning. In fact I went out like a light and that was that.

Traffic was incredibly heavy on the road back to the airport and the RER train was packed too. And what with struggling up inclines and steps and dragging my suitcase along all of these corridors, I can see why I abandoned this route in favour of the TGV. However a direct train to Montlucon for just €46:00 makes up for most things, even if I do have to wait for over 2 hours for Liz to finish work. Still, there’s plenty of coffee in Montlucon and I have a book or two to finish. I hope that the coffee at Montlucon is better than that at Paris Austerlitz which was quite frankly disgusting and if I hadn’t had to pay all of €1:10 for it, would have found its way into the plant pot. It as however just as well that I drank it, because, would you believe – shock! Horror! That I have a Three-and-a-half-hour journey on my train and there is not even a hint of a buffet car. How is this possible?

Anyway, my luck was destined to change. There I was, in the station at Bourges in the middle of “Apache Blood” when I happened to remark to myself that we weretaking an inordinate amount of time to restart. It turne out that there was a bottleneck down the line and, true to form on this voyage, my travel was to be retarded by at least 20 minutes. Still, that gave me the chance to dive over the station buildings and buy a coffee. Every cloud has a silver lining of course, and it’s really an ill-wind that doesn’t blow anyone any good.

diesel locomotive 567348 gare d'austerlitz paris france montluconWe end up only 5 minutes late at Montlucon and so I have plenty of time to photograph the locomotive, a diesel number 567348, that pulled us all this way. Plenty of time indeed, because Liz isn’t due here for another two and a half hours.

So why this train then? The answer is as I said earlier. It’s a direct train. All the other trains involve a considerable amount of changes, and one or two of them even involve coach journeys. I didn’t fancy any of that for a moment.

But Liz picks me up, and she has made a beautiful curry for tea and there is even a bed for the night. I’m grateful for that – with the torrential downpour I really wasn’t looking forward to going back home in all of this.

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Monday 14th October 2013 – I’M IN PARIS NOW …

air france airbus 319 athens airport greecealthough I rather wish that I wasn’t. It’s wet, depressing and miserable, just like I am.

And compare that to the photo here that I took of my plane at Athens Airport – bright gorgeous sunshine enough to put a smile on the face of anyone. I can understand why people who live in countries like Greece and Italy are so happy. Who couldn’t be, with weather like this?

Our ‘plane was an Airbus 319 which was quite comfortable even if there were 150 – 25 rows of 6 – of us aboard. What was rather funny (or not, though) was that there were two toilets on the plane, one for First-Class passengers (of which there were about 30) and one for the huddled masses such as Yours Truly, who were kept well-and-truly curtained off from our elders and betters.

On the ‘plane though, dressed in the traditional habit of an Orthodox Monk, was a dead-ringer for one of my childhood heroes, the Cypriot champion of Enosis and clandestine leader of the EOKA, Archbishop Prekarios.

sunrise over Aegina greeceThe morning was totally beautiful, though. I was up quite early and went out to take a few photos of the sunrise and that didn’t disappoint me at all.

And what was so funny about that though was that the Transcendental Meditationists were already up and about, encamped upon their little terrace, presumably to stop Trixi and Yours Truly invading it for our morning session on the mats (followed, of course, by a little yoga). Clearly even Western Transcendental Meditationists are allowed to have issues over possessions and territory here on the real earth. Perhaps they are just beginners.

I found that almost as funny as the leader of another group storming up, rather aggressively, to another bunch of people, adopting a menacing pose and shouting in a voice loud enough for those on the island of Angina to hear clearly “would you mind being quiet – I’m trying to give a seminar down here and you are disrupting me”. That was the leader of those engaged in the “Non-Violent Communication” sessions.

rosy's little village agistri greeceWe went around afterwards and photographed the complex where we were staying. This is part of one of the blocks of accommodation – my room is down there in the bottom right-hand corner and even though it looks right out of the way, it’s quite deceptive because there’s a substantial slope down to the cliffs and I had a small terrace with a view over the sea and that suited me.

All in all, we had a very good time here. I was certainly glad that I came and wouldn’t hesitate about coming a second time, even if it was just for a holiday and not for a course of something.

village of megalokhoros agistri greeceOur ferry back to Piraeus sails from the port of Megalokhoros – “Big Village” and, true to form with everything else that has happened so far this holiday, it was late and so we had to loiter on the quayside for quite some time.

The bus ride back to the airport was quite uneventful – no-one killed or injured and no luggage sailing up and down the bus. Somehow it was quite a disappointment, even though I did quite clearly see an old white Wolseley 6/80 in a scrapyard at the side of the road. I can see myself needing a much bigger suitcase next time I come here because what with the Wolseley and the Zundapp pick-up, I’m going to be rather overloaded.

The plane was late too, just for a change, and so we had a final coffee together. She then went for the train to Athens and I headed for my plane. Greek security was thorough, but cheerful. They were smiling, saying “please” and “thank you” and generally relaxing the passengers rather than stressing them out in the British, French, Canadian and American style.

There was some real excitement though. A couple with a baby were trying to take all of their worldly possessions onto the aeroplane as cabin luggage, even though it would clearly not fit into the measuring gauge. When the girls at the ticket desk tried to explain this, the woman became quite hysterical, and, shame as it is to say it, rather nasty and offensive. I’m not quite sure how the situation developed but when I passed them by on my way to board, a senior Greek airport official backed up by a quitedetermined-looking policeman, was saying patiently to them ‘but Madam, this is Greece. What they do in the USA has no relevance to what we do here”.

On arrival at Paris, I had to go to another hotel, as my Comfort Hotel at Le Mesnil was fully-booked. And in an irony that only ever happens in books and never in real life except to me, I had to wait hours for the bus to the “Ibis Budget” to arrive, whereas the bus for the “Comfort Hotel – Le Mesnil” was the first to arrive, and by a country mile as well.

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Sunday 6th October 2013 – WE HAVEN’T FINISHED WITH THE NONSENSE YET EITHER.

I arrived at Paris Charles de Gaulle airport way behind schedule, as you might expect, just in time to see the 13:25 plane to Athens disappearing over the horizon. This was … errr … something of a disappointment, especially as the next plane to Greece was not until 18:30.

Consequently, I had several hours to fill and, believe it or not, in the airport concourse there is little (if anything) available in the way of food that I can eat – in fact, food that anyone can eat. However, this was an eventuality for which I was not unprepared, and the rather large bag of ginger biscuits ($1:00 courtesy of a USA Dollar Store) filled what was rapidly becoming a large hole.

But on my perambulations around the airport, I fell in with a French border policeman and it transpires that he lives just about half an hour from Pooh Corner, in St Bonnet as it happens. We had quite a lengthy chat about the Combrailles and the surrounding area, and we parted the best of friends. It’s a shame that other border police and security guards can’t be as friendly as this guy. Travelling would be a pleasure with people like him to deal with.

Not so the staff at Air France. It seems that while they had managed to fix me up with a place on the flight, nothing had been said to anyone about my baggage. Consequently I was menaced with a €170 excess baggage charge. This likewise led to some discussion, not as heated as anything else on this nightmare journey – not the least reason of which was the fact that I needed some people to be on my side and do things for me – not like in the other situations in Montreal where I was well and truly in the chair. Anyway, to cut a long story short … "hooray" – ed … we eventually settled on a fee of €30:00 – still €30:00 too much but that was the best that I could do.

Eventually though, we were called up to the departure lounge – to find that our plane wasn’t there. “Flight number (whatever it was) to Athens is delayed, due to the late arrival of a connection from Washington DC”. They didn’t do that for me, of course, and that is one of the reasons why travelling with bucket-shop carriers is a hazardous occupation.

air france airbus 321 paris charles de gaulle france athens greeceAnother Airbus of course, but Air France, and so a world of difference, even if (surprisingly) there was no in-flight entertainment at all. A vegan meal too, for which I am grateful.

But the fun was only just beginning.

Landing eventually at Athens I started to look for the Holiday Inn where they had arranged for me to stay and which I’m told was at the airport. With no sign of life I approached a helpful airport guy.
“The Holiday Inn? It’s about 10 kms from here”
“Really? So how do I get there?”
“There are shuttle buses that run every 30 minutes from outside the airport” and he showed me where to wait.

45 minutes later, I thought that this was strange, but then again, it is Greece. So the helpful airport guy found me the number and I rang it
“Do I have to ring you to tell you that I’m here so that you can come to pick me up?”
“The shuttle stops running at 22:00 (it was not 00:30)”
“So how do I get to you?”
“You take a taxi”
“But I haven’t got the kind of cash that permits me to take a taxi”
“Well the express bus X93 passes our doorstep if you can persuade the driver to drop you off”.

Luckily there was an X93 at the bus stop and in his bad English and my even worse Greek, we arranged that he would indeed drop me there. But I needed to buy a ticket from the kiosk across the road. Off I duly trotted, paid the €5:00 and turned round just in time to see the X93 disappearing over the horizon.

Anyway, after a while an X95, also signposted to Athens, appeared and it seems that he took more-or-less the same route – at least, passing by the Holiday Inn. And he agreed to drop me there, which he duly did, much to my gratitude.

01:30 now. “Do you know that I had waited nearly an hour for your shuttle bus at the airport?” I said to the guy at reception at the hotel. And like anyone there really cared in the slightest. And the coffee tray in the room was empty and the lights didn’t work properly (but that was a switch issue, although they might have explained to me how to make them work).

There was an overnight petrol station across the road and they fixed me up with some orange juice and biscuits, and then I made the dreadful mistake of having a long and refreshing hot shower to relax me after my efforts. Now of course, it’s 04:00 and I can’t sleep and I’m being called at 06:30.

Somehow it’s just not been my day.

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Tuesday 27th August 2013 – WELL, HERE WE ARE

airbus A330 air transat montreal dorval pierre l trudeau airportAnd here is the rusty steed that brought me here. It’s not, as you might think, an Airbus A330 despite its looks – it is in fact a BE2c that was shot down by the Baron von Richthofen in 1917 on the Western Front and hastily reassembled by Air Transat the day before the flight.

Called The White Bird, it was piloted by those well-known Transatlantic flyers Nungesser and Coli and before I could sit down, I had to move Charles LIndbergh’s sandwiches off my seat.

Strangely, it was the most stress-free flight I’ve ever been on and I’ve no idea why – usually I’m terribly wound up on a flight.

air transat airbus A330 full length mirror in toiletBut only a company such as Air Transat would install a full-length mirror in the beichstuhl so that you could watch yourself riding the porcelain horse. I’ve no idea what musthave gone through their minds when they requested this as a specification. Something to do with the “Mile-High Club”? I did notice that the door was very discreetly placed.

At the airport, again, a very unstressfull passage into the country and then outside where, surprise surprise, my shuttle bus was waiting (it’s a good idea to send them an e-mail) and down to the hotel – the Quality Hotel (although they didn’t say what kind of quality) – where I’m now safely installed.

bus 202 montreal public transport ducollege metro stationThis isn’t a hotel shuttle bus – it’s a Montreal service bus, the 202 to be precise, and here it is outside the Ducollege Underground Station. There’s a bus stop right outside the hotel and that was where I leapt aboard it to take me to the Underground.

Seeing how I’ve not booked a car for a few days, I’m on the buses (and the Underground) for a while. There’s loads of Montreal that I haven’t seen so I’m going to be doing some sightseeing, and by far the best way to get around is on the public transport, especially as a three-day ticket only costs about $18:00 and you can go everywhere with that.

Oratory of Saint Joseph, Cote des Neiges MontrealI took the Underground to the Cote des Neiges station because one of the places that I had always wanted to visit was the huge Oratory of Saint Joseph on the side of Mount Royal. I’ve driven past it on dozens of occasions but never been in and it looks so impressive from a distance.

But not so from close up as it’s built of concrete blocks and even my bricklaying is better than whoever built this. It’s a site of pilgrimage and a true pilgrim will climb up all of the steps on his knees in order to seek forgiveness for his sins – and so why they have shuttle buses, escalators and lifts, given the current state of the Catholic Church, is totzlly beyond me. They’ve totally missed the point.

There was a supermarket around the corner so now that I’m stocked up with bagels, maple syrup and strawberry jam, I can have a good breakfast.

But whoever heard of a Canadian bar laitière, or Ice Cream parlour, running out of maple syrup-flavoured frozen vegan ice cream? Unbelievable!

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Monday 26th August 2013 – WELL, I MADE IT TO THE AIRPORT

terminal 2 airport charles de gaulle paris franceBut it wasn’t half touch and go, I’ll tell you.

I didn’t manage to get anything in the way of sleep last night either, because I couldn’t find the keys to my storage box and my safety deposit box in Canada.

Desperate times call for desperate measures and so I put a couple of batteries for the Ryobi angle grinder on charge. It’s as well to be prepared, and that will sort out the men from the boys of course. After that, desperate measures were called for and I started going through all of the waste bins.

I’m glad I did because I found my missing personal telephone directory NOYE TO SELF – have a word with Cécile about her method of tidying up. I found lots of other disagreeable objects but no keys and at 08:52 I called it a day and started to pack everything away.

However, I had a thought. I definitely remember putting the keys in a zipped pocket and they ought to be in the zipped pocket of my “Canada Electrical” bag. But I didn’t remember opening the suitcase after I locked up the storage unit. I’d tipped out my sac banane where there are about four zipped pockets, and the keys weren’t there either of course, but there was a zipped pocket on the computer and camera hold-all.

And sure enough, with just a couple of minutes to go, I emptied that out, and there they were! Phew! That was a close shave!

So at Radio Tartasse I recorded two months of rock programmes, then Liz and I did 6 weeks of “Radio Anglais”. I stopped off at the Pionsat Intermarché to buy a pile of bread and salad and I’ve made a mountain of butties – I know all about the closed restaurant round the corner from my hotel and I have my suspicions about Air Transat and their choice of vegan food. It’s as well to be prepared.

caliburn at liz and terry messenger sauret besserve puy de dome franceAfter taking Julie and Clare’s furniture out of Caliburn, I garaged him right round the back of Liz and Terry’s where he can stay quiet for 6 weeks or so out of the way and be good.

Liz kindly prepared lunch, a salad and bread, and I shaved my head with the hair trimmer. There are First Nation Canadians, or Amerindiens, around by where I’m going and I’ve heard all kinds of stories about the Malicete. I’m not leaving them anything to pull off. Anyway, after all of that, we went down to Gerzat in Liz’s car to record 5 weeks of “Radio Anglais” for Radio Arverne.

diesel multiple unit sncf french railways riom puy de dome franceThat was for once quite straightforward and then Liz dropped me off at the station in plenty of time for my train.

I’ve no idea what make or model it is – I shall have to refer to my Jane’s Train Recognition Guide for that, but I can tell you that it wasn’t as rattly or as bangy as the one last time I came here. And as nothing at all exciting happened during the voyage, we arrived in Lyon, and Lyon is much more civilised than trying to go via Paris. I had time to eat some butties and drink a coffee.

double decker TGV Lyon part dieu paris charles de gaulle SNCF French railways franceIn the TGV though we were like sardines. I was lucky in that I boarded early and so I managed to grab a place on the difficult rail halfway down the carriage. Anyone who came after me was struggling for luggage space. It really is ridiculous – why don’t they have a luggage van and a baggagiste on each of the trains? That would make everything so much simpler.

And a good 25 minutes late, due to a tardy connection, we hurtled off into the night with kids screaming and all kinds of things. And not even a place to swing a cat. I hate to think what this would be like on a Saturday evening.

That 25 minutes ended up as being a whopping great 44 minutes by the time that we arrived at the station at Terminal 2, and although that might seem like bad news, it is in fact the first bit of good news that I have had for about a week because it entitles me to a refund of 25% on my ticket – something that I shall be following up with vigour.

paris charles de gaulle airport terminal 2 waiting for hotel shuttle bus franceUp in a crowded lift from the first floor to the fifth floor and into a heaving mass of people waiting for the hotel buses. Last year I stepped out of the station and onto the bus – this year I think that everyone else’s bus must have done 5 or 6 trips before mine came. But at least that had dispersed the masses and we were a mere 12 on the bus.

Having now had a shower (and we aren’t talking about the OUSA Exeecutive Committee here), configured the new laptop for the internet and downloaded a pile of files as well as a FTP program, I can post this load of rubbish and go to bed.

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Wednesday 25th April 2012 – YOU ARE PROBABLY …

jumbo jet KLM boeing 747 PH-BFK City of Karachi… wondering why there’s a picture of an old beat-up KLM jumbo jet on my blog this evening. The answer is, rather prosaically, that that’s how I arrived in Montreal.

Yes, it’s a change from the Air France aeroplane upon which I had planned to arrive, but thereby hangs a tail and if your luck is in, then it’s in, that’s all I can say.

I arrived in good time at the airport to be greeted with the news that the aeroplane is sold out (not a problem for me, of course) but that the one planned to do the flight has broken down and won’t be going.

The only one available to replace it has 40 seats fewer, so they need 40 volunteers prepared to go to Montreal by alternative means.
“We’ll give €300 to anyone who will travel by other means” announced the hostess and, believe me, I was the first in the queue and there were casualties.
“I would go via Hell itself, even Old Trafford, as long as I get to Montreal tonight” I proudly announced.
“There’s no need to go to those lengths. If you are quick there’s a flight departing for Amsterdam in 25 minutes and a ‘plane for Montreal that gets in about 40 minutes later than the one that you are booked on”.

Now I can be quick when there’s €300 involved, I mean, I’d bash up my own granny for a fiver. I hung around just long enough to get the mazooma and then I was off like a ferret up a trouser leg.

And there I was

And here I am.

I shan’t go into the boring details about the airport security because you’ve heard me say it all before. And if you really are interested, you can read all about it here.

But to ease the pain I kept on whispering to myself “three hundred euros – three hundred euros”. After all, it works out at about €500 per hour and I’ve never had a job that paid that well, not even selling my body on Boots Corner in Crewe.

At least, it would have been €500 per hour but the ‘plane was late taking off so I’ve no idea how much it ended up being. Still, never mind. Who’s complaining?

And on the flight there were several things of note

  1. I was sat next to a young girl who was half-Dutch and half-Tanzanian and I had the most enjoyable flight companion that I’ve ever had. In fact I was quite disappointed when she hopped into a taxi at the airport, having refused the lift that I offered her
  2. they actually found a vegan meal for me. I was worried about that – being on a restricted diet and having left my booking behind of course. And it was conjured up just as I was thinking that it was lucky that I brought a gingerbread loaf with me
  3. One of the films on offer on the flight was Wallace and Gromit in Curse of the Were-Rabbit. That’s another one of those films that I can watch time after time after time.
  4. Surfing through the radio stations available on the aeroplane I came across “Arrow Classic Rock”. That was a station that I could pick up live in Brussels when I lived there at Expo and it didn’t ‘arf bring back the good old days. Golden Earring all the way across the Atlantic – what more can anyone want?
  5. even more surprisingly, I was chatted up by … errr … one of the air stewards, who spent a great deal of time chatting to me as well and even gave me a pen with his compliments. However, at the end of the flight, in the best traditions of a News of the World reporter, I “made my excuses and left”. B*gg*r that for a game of soldiers

dodge grand caravan dorval pierre trudeau airport montreal canadaAnd after last year’s experiences with hire cars and all of that – well, they knew that I was coming this year didn’t they?

I’ve got my Dodge Grand Caravan – exactly as I ordered and exactly as I expected.

And it’s black – so it won’t show the dirt. And it has 17587 kilometres on the clock.

comfort inn laval montreal quebec canadaI usually stay at the “Howard Johnson” motel out at St Léonard at the side of Highway 40, but now that the renovations are complete, the prices are way out of my budget.

The cheapest motel that was available that was easily accessible and with private off-street parking was a Comfort Inn. It’s in Laval though, some miles away from the airport.

Nevertheless, I had a really good deal here, although the walk-in price is something else completely.

strawberry moose comfort inn laval montreal quebec canadaSo now that I’m installed in my comfortable room, and His Nibs is tucked up in bed, I’ve nipped out for food.

And I don’t have to go very far because there’s a restaurant next door. It doesn’t take them long to rustle up a pizza for me to eat (yes, I remembered my cheese).

The downside of this is that I didn’t get to go for a stroll around the neighbourhood as I usually do.

But then again, I think that I’ve done enough strolling today – I don’t know how many kilometres it was that I had to run in order to catch all of these blasted planes.

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Tuesday 24th April 2012 – Miserable, wet, grey and depressing…

… but that’s enough about me. Let’s talk about the weather.

And that’s also miserable, wet, grey and depressing.

But the exciting thing is that I’m sitting at a desk looking out of my hotel window and I can see the planes taking off from the runway at Paris Charles de Gaulle airport. And in 8 hours time I’ll be there too.

sncf multiple unit train riom puy de dome franceThe train journey was exciting and I’ll do this again.

The one from Riom to Lyon was a multiple-unit thing that rattled and clanked its way along.

No coffee unfortunately but at least the seats were comfortable and there was plenty of room.

At Lyon you leave the train, go downstairs where there’s a waiting area and a coffee machine. When your train is called you go back upstairs and there you are. Simple as that.

lyon part dieu double decker tgv franceThe TGV was a double-decker thing and athough we had a 20-minute wait for a late connection we went like stink as expected.

The lateness didn’t matter one single iota. I walked straight out of the airport onto the hotel shuttle (once every half-hour) that was already outside.

So if we had been on time I would have had to wait outside the airport for 20 minutes.

Downside of the TGV is that coffee on the double-deckers is a long walk away and luggage space is VERY MUCH at a premium. Upside is that my train was going to Lille Europe and there was a TGV coming from Brussels on the opposite platform.

Doesn’t that open up exciting possibilities for my British and Belgian friends? Both of them!

Anyway, here I am. And there I’ll be in a bit. And, as I said to Bill as he dropped me off at Riom railway station,
“Thank you Bill for bringing me here”.
“You’ll be an inspector, have no fear”

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Wednesday 31st August 2011 – HERE I AM…

comfort hotel aeroport charles de gaulle paris france… standing outside my hotel down on the end of the runway at Paris Charles de Gaulle, waiting for the shuttle bus to take me to the airport.

You can see how close we are to the airport here. Mind you – it’s a good 15 minutes on the bus as the terminal is on the other side of the runway.

The airport was as usual a thoroughly stressful experience and our plane was actually parked away from the airport on the concrete pan. We had to be bussed out there.

And it was like flying Transatlantic Ryanair with Ait Transat. We were crammed in like sardines and we were late taking off – there being a problem with a chemical toilet on board. In fact the most comfortable 5 minutes that I had on the ‘plane was when I had 5 minutes on the Elsan.

manic 5 dam trans labrador highway quebec canada We flew over some areas that I recognised, including the Manic 5 dam, and you can see the Trans Labrador Highway quite clearly down below. It was good to be back in familiar territory.

We were again parked up miles from the terminal at Pierre Trudeau Airport and had to be bussed to the terminal. And much to my surprise, the passage through Immigration was painless – I was “interrogated” by a girl who looked as if she was about 12. Shows you how old I am, doesn’t it?

dodge grand caravan pierre trudeau airport montreal canadaAnd look at my car! It’s a Dodge Grand Caravan that I’ve chosen especially for this journey, because the seats fold flat into the floor and that makes a nice big space to make up a bed.

I’m staying here for a while and I need to watch my budget, and hiring a vehicle like this is cheaper than staying in motels. I’ve rented a tiny storage unit too, so what I buy can be stored here for use on a subsequent occasion.

I found a Walmart where I found a camping stove and some food supplies. I couldn’t make IKEA though – stuck in road works and rush hour traffic, it was impossible to move. And so I made my way across town to my motel and I’ll go th IKEA tomorrow.

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Tuesday 30th August 2011 – DAY ONE OF MY VOYAGE

I’m not sure if this should actually count as Day One because firstly, there wasn’t much of it and secondly, I didn’t actually leave the country. It was however they day that I hit the road (or rather hit the rails) and so for that reason I’ve included it as a fair candidate.

Having said that though, I did actually hit the road rather early. I was all washed up, cleaned up, tidied up (well, sort-of) and on the road for 09:45 because today is the day that Liz and I record the Radio Anglais programmes for the month of September. We did the Radio Tartasse sessions in the morning and then I drove Caliburn down to Liz’s and left him there, piling myself and the baggage into Liz’s voiture for the journey down to Gerzat and the Radio Arverne sessions.

When they were over she heaved me out at the railway station at Riom and that was that. And only a wait of 75 minutes for the train. Good job there’s a coffee machine here.

railway locomotive riom paris gare de lyon franceThis is the locomotive that pulled my train for Paris Gare de Lyon.

I sat next to a girl on the train up and we had a healthy conversation for at least 10 minutes before we worked out that we were both British. She was from Inverness and a student at St Andrews studying French for Scientists. She was spending a year’s exchange living in the language but she’d been in Aurillac for a month house-and-dog sitting.

Her family lives in the wilds and they have no mains electricity – just solar panels and wind turbines and so we had a good chat about that and I gave her a card.

We had the usual struggle across Paris with my giant suitcase and there has to be a better way to go to the airport than this – hitting the city in the evening rush hour with swarms of people and escalators out of order and miles to walk. I’m going to have to resolve this somehow.

At the airport, I dunno where this blasted shuttle bus has gone to – I have to wait about a year for it to turn up. And then by the time that I’ve sorted out everything at the hotel and gone for a walk, the only restaurant in this village here is closed. It only opens Thursday Friday and Saturday evenings and closes at 21:30. So that’s no use to me.

Nothing to eat tonight then. I hope that the rest of my voyage is better than this.

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Saturday 13th November 2010 – IT’S A GOOD JOB …

… that it’s Saturday 13th rather than Friday 13th, because Heaven alone knows what might have gone wrong then.

The flight was reasonable – nothing remarkable at all – but I’m a very bad traveller and find it very difficult to sleep on board an aeroplane. This journey was no exception at all.

I was wasted by the time that I arrived at Charles de Gaulle airport and I wasn’t very comfortable making my way from the airport across Paris for the train to Riom.

And we waited. And waited. And waited.

First of all there had been the engineering works that were slowing everything down.

Secondly, there had been a locomotive failure down the line. It was all happening today.

All in all, by the time that I reached Riom it was not too far short of midnight. Only three and a half hours late.

Instead of going straight home (which was a silly idea anyway at this time of night) Terry ran me back to their house and Liz put me up in the spare bedroom and that was that.

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Wednesday 29th September 2010 part II – WELL, HERE I AM.

embassy motel kitchener ontario canadaIn a motel on the edge of the town of Kitchener in Ontario. $62 plus taxes and you don’t get much for your money.

But having been into the city, tried unsuccessfully to withdraw cash at three banks with three different bank cards and missing my way back to the motorway, I was ready for a good sleep. Mainly because I hadn’t had one on the plane.

Some blasted infant started to scream the moment the plane took off from Zurich and didn’t stop until we landed at Toronto. And at one time it was screaming so much that it gave itself a nosebleed. I was thoroughly fed up with that.

It’s been a long time since I’ve been up, showered, dressed and breakfasted before 08:00 – I’ll tell you that. And up before the alarm as well. Well, breakfasted after a fashion with the rest of the biscuits from my bag – and no coffee either. With the prices that they were charging I’d need a mortgage for that.

And on the airport shuttle bus some American got on board with two of the biggest suitcases I had ever seen, even bigger than mine – while his wife stood and watched him. I couldn’t resist it –
“Wouldn’t it have been easier just to buy the kids a ticket?” I asked him.

And as the bus pulled in to Charles de Gaulle Terminal 2 his wife stood and watched as he struggled one of the suitcases off. And he had to hurry to take the second one off before the bus pulled off to the next terminal. If she had been my wife she would have had a smack in the mouth by now. It wasn’t so much the standing and watching that did it for me – she may well have been disabled or something, you can never tell, but it was the way that she was harassing him while he was trying to do it.

Once inside the airport we are subjected to what can only be called "Skyway Robbery". I’d already lost some dosh in a vending machine at the entrance and it took me ages of wandering around the concourse before I found some nice friendly woman with a coffee trolley who sold me a nice cup of hot steaming strong coffee for a very respectable €1:70. Yes, it can be done, but you need to persevere.

The final words that I gave to Strawberry Moose
before we parted were
“Are you going to be all right, stowed away in the suitcase?”
“Just bung me a bottle of whisky” he said “and I’ll be absolutely fine”
“Badger off!” I exclaimed. “I know you! We won’t be halfway across the Atlantic before you start singing bawdy songs”
“Once we’are halfway over the Atlantic it won’t really matter. They aren’t going to stop in mid-air to search the baggage now, are they?”

airbus 320 swissair paris charles de gaulle france zurich switzerlandHe did ask me though if we were flying by Lear Jet but I did explain that it’s spelt L-E-A-R.And in any case, it was a nice, comfortable Airbus 320 that took us over to Zurich.

My only complaint was that there was nothing for me to eat. somehow my request for a vegan meal doesn’t apply to snacks served on short-haul flights.

air canada boeing 777 zurich airport toronto ontario canadaThey said that out plane from Zurich to Toronto was a Boeing 777. Mnd you, it looked more like a 767 to me but I suppose that they ought to know.

And as we flew over Greenland I had my vegan meal. Couscous and roasted vegetables. Not as nice as Liz’s but then again, nothing is.

But you missed all of the excitement. When we were at about 20,000 feet we had the safety announcement. And one of the things that they said was “if you are sitting by an emergency door you must be able to open it”. And I didn’t see the point of that – they didn’t half yell at me when I tried.

air canada flight overtaking thomas cook flight mid atlantic oceanAs well as that, we had another exciting incident. I always understood that there had to be a good vertical and horizontal clearance between two planes on the same course ever since those two airliners collided over the Grand Canyon years ago.

But there’s not much in the way of separation between us and this Thomas Cook flight that we overtook in mid-Atlantic.

But that’s enough of that. I remained inconspicuous for the rest of the flight with my head down. And at least the skriking infant drowned out the bawdy songs coming from the hold.

air canada boeing 777 coming into land lester b pearson airport toronto ontario canadaWe made it in one piece as far as Toronto where the screaming brat finally shut up. I’d made the most of the journey by watching a couple of Hopalong Cassidy films and the new Robin Hood. At least the headphones kept out the screaming.

And the queue into the country was miles long. Half a dozen flights from Europe had come in at the same time as, as usual, the airport wasn’t prepared for them

chrysler pt cruiser casey lester b pearson airport toronto ontario canadaBut good fortune followed me to the car hire place.

They didn’t have a compact car so they offered me an upgrade. After much negotiation we settled on a Chrysler PT Cruiser. Ive always loved these vehicles, ever since they first came out. They reminded me very much of the Ford Anglias and Prefects that my father had when we were kids. And it’s been a lifetime ambition to drive on. So I was more-than-happy with this.

driving into the sunset, going west you might say, from Toronto Ontario CanadaAnd so in my Chrysler PT Cruiser which I have named Casey (check his numberplate) Strawberry Moose and I head off into the sunset – going west you might well say, along the motorway in the general direction of Windsor, Ontario.

I’m looking for a cash point and then I’ll be looking for a motel. I won’t be doing all of the trip tonight. I’m thoroughly exhausted after the events of today.

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