Sens: The Never-Ending Journey

Last weekend I went to Sens (about an hour's train ride South East of Paris). It almost didn't happen, though. The day before I was due to leave, I was talking to someone who thought that I might not be able to get a train there, due to all the snow that's around at the moment. So I went on a mission down to the train station, and asked if they knew whether it should all be running, and they said yes. So I thought all was fine.

The next morning, I got up for a nice, early train from St Go... to arrive at the station to find a notice saying that the train wouldn't run that morning. Which was really great for me, as the next train got me to Toulouse too late to get my connecting train to Paris, and I had no other way of getting to Toulouse. And my ticket said non-exchangeable/refundable. Argh!

Given that I had half an hour or so to wait for the next train, I reflected a bit, and decided to note the number of the cancelled train. This was fortunate because, when I went to the ticket man at Toulouse to explain the situation, he asked for it. After a bit of to-ing and fro-ing, he came back with a ticket for the next train to Paris, which didn't cost me any extra. Great relief! Not sure if they did it because I had taken the annulation insurance option for the Toulouse-Paris trip or simply because it was their fault and not mine, but I don't care. After being extremely peeved at the SNCF, I was suddenly pretty grateful!

Had about an hour and a half to kill in Toulouse, then, so went for a wander and bought some lunch for later on.

Train ride to Paris was uneventful... then came the time to get from the Gare Montparnasse to Gare Paris-Bercy.Fortunately for me, there is a metro line between them; didn't even have to change. I got down to the metro, and there were big queues of people in front of all of the ticket machines. By this stage, I'd been travelling for about 10 hours (if we include waiting in the station at St Go) and was not really keen on waiting in a queue that didn't even seem to be moving. So, I was lucky that a lady came along and said there were ticket machines up one level that were completely free. The man in front of me in line and I decided to see if she was right... she was.

Paris - Sens train ride was very picturesque. Unfortunately, I have no pictures, as I was standing, and too lazy to get my camera out at this stage. Anyway, there were lots of pretty, snow-covered village views. Felt a bit like I was in a Christmas card.

Snow on the tracks at Paris Bercy.

One good thing about arriving approx 2 hours later than I had intended (with original train) was that Sabrina had finished work when I arrived, so she could meet me at the train station. Happy times!

The hotel she had booked was just across the road, so off we went. I swear the man verified who she was and asked if the room was for one person or two about 3 times! When we got to the room, we saw that it was nice, but rather 'intimate.' Ie there was only a double bed, and the bathroom only had saloon-style doors blocking it off so, if you were not in bed when the other person was in the bathroom, you would be more or less able to see them. LOL.Sometimes, French hotels crack me up.

Decided to go out and have a look around that night. Quite a lot of snow, so were walking carefully. I've seen enough people on the news slipping over in snow; didn't want to be one of them! Looked at an apartment for Sabrina, wandered through the town centre, and saw the school where she teaches.

Sabrina reckons about 30 000 people lve in Sens, so it's not huge, but it's rather nice. Lots of cute little houses, a nice town square and pretty old cathedral, river running through...

We found a good place to eat, called 'Le Frenchy' and I tried tartiflette, which was very tasty! Then we thought we had better have 'un petit dessert' so I had a banana and nutella waffle. After this, I was very happy. :)

On the way back to the hotel, we went past a bar with some music pumping, so we decided to go in... but we were the only ones, apart from some men playing pool in a corner. We were a little bit bemused as, when Sabrina asked if we could sit down, the lady indicated the far corner. And then we noticed a basket full of washing in a seat right by the door and bar. Not quite sure why the washing got a better seat than us (or, indeed, why it was on display at all) but never mind. The important thing is, I finally tried pastis: a very licorice-y aperitif which is typical of the South (but I don't know where exactly).