Oct 3: Off to the train station, twice

Our plan for today was to buy two sets of train tickets, one for a day trip to Albi tomorrow, and a second for the next leg of our trip, to Bordeaux which we leave for on Friday. Our first challenge was the metro and a nuisance panhandler.  However, this was a resourceful chap and even though we had sort of rudely blown him off, he hung around long enough to see a potential opportunity – that we’d be there for days trying to figure out the ticket dispensing machine if left to our own devices.  He happily showed us the ropes in exchange for a 1-way subway fare.  

The metro took us right into the train station. We lined up with everyone else waiting to buy tickets.  I practiced the many ways I knew or thought I knew to say “I’d like to buy a ticket to …” in french, and insisted that Daniel let me do the talking when we got to the wicket. Those of you who know us as a couple probably find it odd that I had to insist that Daniel let me talk, but it’s true - he’s the chatty one when we travel. Anyhow, I think we were both greatly relieved when we lucked into the multilingual ticket agent (there was 1) and were able to make our purchases in English.  Tickets in tow, away we went.   Our next stop was a boat trip along the La Garonne and the Brienne Canal.  But first I needed a snack. ======================>


The boat tour was wonderful. The Pont Neuf, pictured at the beginning of this entry, spans the Garonne River.  It was started in 1544 and took 50 years to build. One original feature of the bridge are the holes beside the arches which allowed the water to flow through when the river flooded. Not far from this bridge is Hopital de la Grave. When the plague broke out, sick people were moved here. Although the clergy fled the city, doctors were not allowed to leave as they were needed to treat the sick.  Because starvation was prevalent, butchers and bakers were also required to remain behind. But not the clergy.

The canal system was started in 1667 and was built to connect Toulouse to the Mediterranean. It has 14 locks.

The tour ended and we were right across from Notre Dame de la Daurade, which is “home” to the Black Virgin Mary, patron saint of pregnant women. I couldn’t quite figure it all out, but here she is, dressed in the most beautiful yellow gown, along with an official explanation.

Our next stop was for a coffee for Daniel and a rosé for me.  Imagine my disappointment when instead I was served was the tiniest of coffees!  We checked the bill and what I actually got was a noisette … or something like that.  Rosé / noisette, I guess they sound alike?  Since it took me all of 5 minutes to drink it,  I decided to clean out my purse, while Daniel drank his more normal-sized coffee.  In the process I looked at our train tickets for Albi and discovered that they were dated for today! And, in fact when we bought them the train would already have left (it was a morning train and we bought the tickets in the afternoon).   How does this happen in the age of computers?!  Off we went back to the train station.  I joined the queue with about 50 other people, Daniel took a less Canadian approach, went off with tickets in hand, found someone “official”, emphasized that it was their error (which was evident from the dates/times on the ticket) and asked that they fix it.  We were in and out in 10 minutes with the correction scribbled across the tickets and an official stamp added.  How well that works, we’ll find out tomorrow.  And to think, we were originally so pleased to get the English speaking chap at the wicket!