12 - Lyon - Barcelona

Day 12

After the best breakfast so far on this trip, I updated various blogs, making the most of the hotel WiFi before leaving. The train departs at 14:30, so I delayed checking out of the hotel until the last moment. I still had several hours to wait and considered putting my suitcase in a locker and visiting a local shopping mall. When I eventually found lockers, a problem everywhere except Germany, the security was like checking into a flight. A woman sat behind a glass screen insisted I put my suitcase through the scanner, but first I want to know how much it would cost. She ignored my request and insisted again I put my suitcase through the scanner first. I scrapped that idea and returned to the waiting area. Yesterday I had had an excellent quiche from the 'Paul' patisserie at the station and I decided to have another for lunch today. In the waiting room I was able to plug in my laptop and smartphone and use the SNCF WiFi, all functioned perfectly, unlike my experience with the rest of Europe. I ordered a coffee and the quiche, requesting it be hot and waited while it was microwaved - at least it disappeared for a minute or two. When I bite into the quiche most of it was stone cold and the rest only luke warm. I was a bit disappointed having looked forward to it, but the moral was, quit while you are ahead and don't expect plans to work out. I whiled away the time on my laptop and when I next looked up it was time to leave. I had half an hour to spare but no idea where the platform was. Then I began to panic as I had forgotten about customs, in the UK it was necessary to check in an hour before departure. The Barcelona train was up on the board, but it had no platform allocated, so I dashed over to the information desk. They calmly told me to wait as I was too early. Had I heard correctly, yes, they insisted 20 minutes before it was due to depart the platform number would be indicated. Eventually with 15 minutes to go the number popped up on the digital display and I dashed to the platform. The train had still not arrived and the platform was crowded with people waiting. With hardly five minutes before the train was due to depart it trundled into the station and my carriage No 3 stopped directly in front of me. However chaos ensued as people tried to get on, resulting in delays while passengers sorted out their seats and luggage. Then a wheelchair passenger was given priority to enter through our door. We were told to go to wagon 5 further along and enter. So a group of us walked up the platform to where another queue was waiting to enter wagon 5. Meanwhile the train's departure time had already passed. Eventually I entered the jam packed carriage, but inside nothing was moving and we still had to make our way down the aisles of two carriages to our seats.

From what I can remember there was no ramp for the wheelchair, it had to be carried on along with the passenger. Would it not have been simpler to have had a special place and entrance for wheelchairs. Interestingly despite Spaniards reputation for lateness and 'manana' philosophy, they still manage to run their trains perfectly on time.

Near to Montpelier the landscape changed dramatically.

I find my reserved window seat taken by a Brazilian man, but as I prefer an aisle seat we agreed to change. The train pulled out of the station a little late but not as late as many of the French trains I had traveled on. Soon after we left a woman in a seat across from us was removed by the train's inspector after discovering she was traveling on the wrong day. It was a surprise to her as much as it was the inspector. It was all done very amicably, I was relieved about that as it was exactly the sort of thing I would have done. In fact I missed an outward flight once reading the inward flight departure time. Our seats came with a table and an English woman sat opposite who had lived in Barcelona for many years . We chatted in English occasionally and I learned she was a linguist and he was a physiotherapist from London who had worked in Korea for a while.

The Mediterranean coast viewed from the restaurant car.

The journey was very relaxed and landscape quiet spectacular. At times it seemed like we were skimming across a lake in a boat with water on both sides as far as the eye could see. I think we were south of Montpelier with the Mediterranean on one side and a large lagoon on the other, on the edge of La Camargue. It was a landscape largely new to me with vast stretches of water and grassland. The area was famous for its wild light-grey horses and groups of them could be seen now and then in the distance. I was paralysed by the stunning landscape, afraid to move for missing something. Eventually I took my camera to the restaurant to capture some of it, however by then the most spectacular part had gone. I spent much of the remaining journey in the restaurant, photographing what I could of the passing scene. Although it was a five hour journey the time went quickly and we arrived on time in Barcelona at 19:30. Eventually I found the hotel after taking the wrong exit out of the station. The hotel was a bit poky, but I was grateful it was so close to the station and few doors down was a small grocery. I bought water and food, then retired to my room for the evening, where I updated all my blogs and had an early night. Tomorrow I had to be up at 7:00.

A lone egret finds a pond.