After some quick tartine (never before have I eaten so much white bread), we make our way to Gare du Nord. I must say: French train stations are so romantic! First of all, they’re as beautiful as the rest of the city. I kept wanting to take interior pictures, but the military walks around with these AK-47s. I’m really not used to that; they only do that ever so often here in New York subway stations. Another cool thing about these train stations is that you can leave your bags in a locker, so you don’t have the lug them around as you explore the city. That is so civilized, but it feels like it’s only a matter of time until they put the kibbosh on that - even with the airport-style security scans.
Joël is the consummate host; he’s always saying “Don’t worry!” and takes very good care of us. This immersion was beginning to irritate me, though. Philippe speaks fluently and has been to Paris before, so I’m kinda left out of the loop when it comes to knowing where we’re going. Eventually, I just let go and follow. I knew I’d be back to visit specifically to take more photos, so I didn’t knock myself out this go-round. We walked around and took in the city before heading to Gare d’Austerlitz. Ask Napoleon why it’s not called “Gare d’Orléans” … anyhoo, it’s very lax because of the holiday. No one comes to check our tickets, so we save them for another day and enjoy a peaceful ride out to Orléans. So peaceful, in fact, that I drooled all over myself in slumber. Lucky for me, we had the compartment all to ourselves and drew the curtains.
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