2 - Bilbao - Paris

Day 2

After a good nights sleep I was ready to tackle the next stage of my Eurotour, reaching Paris later that evening. I left the hotel early after a breakfast of one fairy cake and a coffee. I descended into Bilbao city heading for the river, a little unsure of how to get to the Guggenheim museum, although out of sight was not so far away. Bilbao is a mix of ugly concrete constructions, mostly in the form of flyovers, interspersed with interesting buildings, bridges and sculptures. I soon found the impressive mirror-glassed Guggenheim museum but had reached the wrong side of it and had to double-back dragging my noisy suitcase over the rough paving stones. Eventually I had reached the super giant spider sculpture by Louise Bourgeois, easily as impressive as the Guggenheim museum itself. I continued following the river for a short way heading SW and cut through a park on my way to the bus station.

Louise Bourgeois stunning spider has to be seen closeup

Before beginning my Eurotour I had already planned to go first to Paris, from where I would decide the next leg of my journey. However nothing was planned in detail and on the way to Bilbao I discovered to my dismay that it was not possible to go directly to Bayonne from Bilbao by rail. Taking the train would have meant travelling south, back the way I had come the evening before and then changing trains and travelling north again. Taking the train to Bayonne would have taken most of the day and reaching Paris that night would have been impossible. I also discovered another mistake. While checking Bayonne to Paris I had got Bayonne in Switzerland and not Bayonne in France. This had led me to believe the journey time to Paris from Bayonne was two hours, when in fact it was five hours.

San Sebastian looking towards the coast

After contemplating my options the evening before, I had decided to travel by bus to Bayonne. It required changing buses in San Sebastian, but this awkward section between Spain and France only cost 20 euros and the three hours traveling time weaving through the foothills of the Pyrenees was comfortable and quite entertaining. Once in San Sebastian I had a 4 hour wait for the Bayonne bus, giving me plenty of time to look around this interesting city. It was another city with a wide, fast flowing river, but the bus station was a long way out from the center and it took me some time to realise. The most interesting part of the city seemed to be close to the coast. By the time I had reached the center it was time to return and catch my bus. The bus from San Sebastian left on time and finally reached Bayonne just before 16:00, leaving me with a two and a half hour wait for the 18:25 TGV to Paris. I managed to get a free WiFi connection with SNCF in the station, a great help, as now my Orange prepaid card no longer worked in France. Afterwards I walked around the town looking for a place to eat and wondered why everything was shut. It felt like a ghost town, but I soon discovered  France was on holiday, so I returned to the station hoping for food. 

Impressive San Sebastian

Things were not much better at the station as there was no hot food and the few sandwiches available looked less than appetizing. No one seemed to be serving at the counter, so I bought a bag of crisps from a nearby magazine kiosk. The station toilet was also closed and customers were advised to use a public toilet outside in the car park. However after finding the metallic 'Tardis' toilet I thought if I ever entered it I would vanish into a black hole or it would steal my money and take off. Unhappy with both scenarios, I gave up on the idea for the moment.

Bayonne, France SNCF station food, but at least they had free WiFi

Grey Bayonne

I retired to the station bar with my bag of crisps and bought another beer. On the radio a song about a ghost town was playing, very apt ... I settled down to wait. Half an hour before the train was due to leave at 18:25, I went to platform B to search out my carriage and to ensure I was on time. A TGV was waiting by the deserted platform, so I walked down checking the carriage numbers. By the time I had reached mine, number 18, I was a long way down the platform and there were no more information signs. Carriage 18 also had no number, only 17 and and 19 on each side were numbered. The carriage doors were locked, so I sat down on a bench to wait. Five minutes before the train was due to leave it was still unlit, empty and locked like a ghost train. A few people seemed to be waiting so I was not unduly worried.

Another TGV arrived on the neighboring platform, I thought it was from Paris. However with only a few minutes to go before my train was due to leave I began to have doubts. Was the TGV arriving on platform C going to Paris? I hurried down the platform to check the overhead information signs. To my horror I saw my train to Paris had been changed to platform C. I spotted a guard and went over to check with him just as the TGV on platform C began to depart at exactly 18:25. Convinced it was the train to Paris, I  waved frantically and shouted wait, wait! Of course the train pulled out of the station regardless, but the guard reassured me it was not the Paris train and that my train would soon be arriving on platform C as indicated by the digital information signs. Although the signs still showed the Paris train leaving at 18:25 and by now it had long since passed. 

Suddenly the ghost train on platform B sprang into life and began to move out in the same direction as the other train and soon it too had disappeared. The guard I had briefly spoken to jumped down onto the rails and talking into his walky-talky began walking along the track out of the station. Two other station personal arrived on platform C preparing for the new arrival. They seemed amused by its late arrival but equally confused. The unruffled passengers waited patiently on platform C. By 19:00 there was still nothing to indicate the 18:25 to Paris would be late. Meanwhile the information sign had changed yet again and was now showing the Paris TGV leaving from platform B again still at 18:25. The ghost train suddenly reappeared at high speed and screeched to an abrupt halt on platform B. At last it was clear this was indeed the 18:25 TGV to Paris so everyone waiting on platform C moved across to platform B. I climbed on board, happy to find my carriage had now acquired the number 18. The delay meant I would not arrive in Paris before midnight and I still had to find my hotel.  

After midnight outside Gare du Montparnasse 

I relaxed into my seat for the five hour journey. Luckily I had bought a small bottle of water as I soon discovered the restaurant car was closed and there was no trolley service with it being a holiday. So no refreshment of any kind for the next five hours. The well worn TGV arrived in Paris just after midnight at the Gare du Montparnasse, which now turned out to be much further away from my hotel than I had expected. I had picked the wrong station while doing my research. I only became aware of the mistake after asking a passerby where Notre Dame was. Their expression made it clear that walking there with a suitcase was not a sane option at this time of night. I hailed a taxi and 20 minutes later I was dropped off outside my hotel. A night porter let me in but once in my room I realised I had no water to drink or any food and returned to reception to get help from the night porter. I was directed to a corner shop down the road that sold just about everything and returned with a shopping bag full of food and drink. Bed was finally reached at 02:00. It had been a long day.