Murphy's Law

I think it is Murphy's Law that states, what can go wrong, will go wrong. Murphy had clearly backpacked through Europe at some point in his life.

I said I would blog about the multitude of things that have gone wrong, and, I deliver. I am aboard a train right now, with no Internet (where is Internet other than in cafes?) and so when you read this, imagine the French countryside whizzing by. Things have been frustrating recently, but push cone to shove, it's the FRENCH countryside whizzing by, so, you know, I have no real right to complain.

Well, it started with an attempt to book seats with our Eurail pass three days ago to go to Italy the following day. At the station, we were told that the quick journey we had seen in the Timetable, and had planned on, was impossible. While the guide book to the Eurail and Europe states to make reservations on trains a day in advance, apparently, the train from Paris to Florence (where we planned to spend what would have been our Spain days) was booked for what appeared to be indefinitely.

Alright, we thought, that's a bit weird, but what are our other options?

There was only one option, according to the ticket office. Stay in Paris two extra nights. Go to Marseille today and spend the night there. Leave Marseille early the morning to Nice. Wait in Nice for three hours. Go from Nice to Ventimiglia to make a connection (in under ten minutes) to Milan. From Milan, to Rome. Arrive in Rome at 11pm.

Should I mention that there was 50 euro fee as well for that nonsense? No. That would be tacky.

Frustrated by our suddenly empty wallets and lack of Florence exploration, we headed out of the ticket office, shoulders slumped, already tired at the prospect of a long travel ahead.

What was there to do now but look for a place to sleep? Well, actually, this left us in a bit of a pickle. It was the weekend, and a weekend we did not plan on. How many hostels do you think were available in Paris? On a weekend. Basically none. So, optionless (again) we picked the only one with an opening that didn't cater to the honeymooners' budget. This placed us in a charming hostel but in a sketchy and very far from the center location.

The previous hostel we stayed in didn't have toilet seats, and the one before that was without toilet paper. So despite it's location, this last minute booking looked pretty good with it's free breakfast, delightfully flustered staff, and in tact toilets.

So when I say I was 'stuck' in Paris, I am sure it will be met with eye rolls and aggravation. But, considering we now have significantly less time in Italy, and too much time traveling, I think it is moderately justified.

Well, we're off to Marseille. The place the guide 'Let's Go Europe' explains you don't want to be unless (in their words) you are a man, big, and know how to knife fight. And the forums warn not to hang around, lest people on drugs bother you. Ok, that's not comforting. But what's an adventure without a little adventure, right? At least it's just one night.

Good news, though, my toe stopped bleeding and I am now able walk around without feeling like I'm Lady Badass: Master of Pain Tolerance. So, I suspect the rest of the trip can only get better from here. And you know what? Despite my uptight oldest child personality, it's been one amazing journey.

Well, until next time! And remember, when things go wrong, it's just life reminding you to stop being such a control freak.

Of course, it always helps to have someone who can make you laugh along the way, and family and friends waiting on the other side.

Anyway, Pringles and golden fields require my undivided attention. Over and out!