So I want this to be the best blog ever because we had one of those days and nights that was worth sharing....

We headed to Nice on a 7:30 pm train that would stop in Cerbere, France so we could make a connection to a sleeper train and head to Nice. The night train was set to arrive around 9 in the morning and it was Jessie's first night sleeping in a real bed on the train. So we manage to make it to the tracks in Barcelona, but then the intercom switched the track on us, in Spanish of course, and we weren't pay attention. Luckily some Dutch women gave us a funny look when we didn't move tracks and she tried to explain to us to get on the new train. So we scooted over to the new track, grabbed a seat, and settled in for abotu 3 hours. Nothing too exciting, eating sour cream and onion pringles and some bocadillo cookies for dinner. Trying to avoid having someone squish me by sitting next to me, the usual.

So the ticket checker comes around, looks at our Eurail pass and says, Cerbere? We reply yes, and he says, no the train is not going to Cerbere, it stops one before that and terminates. Uh really? So about 20 people in the car proceed to freak out a little because they are all like us and making a connection there to Nice. In about 3 lanuages, we finally gather that there is a strike in France among train workers and so the night train from Cerbere is cancelled. Okie dokie then. We figure we'll just wait for the native Spanish couple to make a plan and follow them. So we all have to get off at Portbou, where we met a hilarious group of 4 Australian guys from Perth. Of course they come prepared with beer, which they break out as we wait for something to happen...we weren't sure what. Someone though taxis were coming to take us to the other station where we could maybe sleep that night. Then they never came. So then the Australians figured we should join Team Australia, and walk the 4km down the train tracks to the next station. Keep in mind, we're in a podunk town, no lights, no map, station closed, hilarious.

We finally gear up to try to walking thing and there happens to be a train on the way to Paris that stops at the station. Some people try to convince the stewards to let us on for just one stop. Not happening. Then the train moves three hundred meters and stops again. As we're walking, some caboose worker starts chatting us up in English and tells us to just hop on in the back of the car, no one will notice, and get off at the next stop. So we went on our way to become stowaways. You know me and my nervousness about anything illegal, but I was trying to be a trooper, as the fine could only be 40 euro and we'd still get where we needed to go. We jammed into the back of the car, packs and all, and waited. And waited. And waited. No movement whatsoever. We see someone official moving through the cars ahead and decide, largely based on me, to bail out and try something else. Then the caboose guy sees us and beckons us to get back in quickly because it's going. So we do, and it does, and our hearts are pumping. Some random Moroccan thug wannabe comes to talk to us, but we kick him out when he lights up a cigarette in the cramped space. Uh Duh!

So we all get a little freaked out when we see an attendant come at us, but she passed, then seemed gruffy, and we freaked that she was going to call the police or give us a fine. At some random stop of the tracks, another steward of sorts with a name badge gets on and asks us if we're going to Cerbere. Of course we said yes, he passed, and we figured we were home clear and just looked like typical travelers ready to hop off the train. Apparently, the rest of our group, including the spanish couple and the 4 japanese girls, had become stowaways too, but we were worried they would break our cover. We arrived at the station, the drunken Australian bowed to the stewards feet, who then said in French, don't do that to me, do that to the police. Then we immediately saw a flashlight and capped man walking toward us. Heart racing again, but he pleasantly spoke english, explained the strike and tried to tell us about how to get to our destination in the morning. He proceeded to have us cross the tracks, literally, since the underground walkway was locked, and showed us the the waiting room. A square, dirty room, with benches along three walls, already occupied by people in our same situation trying to put their feet up and get a few hours sleep. We were all a little wired so we spent an hour or so taking pictures on the tracks, chatting with our new friends. I proceeded to go inside around 12:30 and find a spot of the floor. Where I used my hard, bookfilled purse as a pillow, with my towels on top for padding. Brutal on the neck, the chiropractor would not be happy. So I slept among ash from cigarette butts and occasionally woke up to a cacophony of snoring and movement. Around 3, I had to ransack my bag and add about 7 mores shirts and another pair of pants since the temperature had dropped so much. But hey, there was a bathroom, a lit place, and plenty of people to make me feel secure. I don't know what I'm going to do when I get to come home and have a plush queen size mattress in a room all to myself. I think I'll have withdrawals, maybe make my brother sleep on the floor just for company!

So around 5, the organized guy from Team Australia and I blundered our way through a conversation with one of the stewards as she tried to tell us how to get to Nice. We jumped on her train 5 minutes later, slept on the seats for a couple hours, yes I had imprints of the fabric pattern on my face, and stirred only when we were supposed to get off in Avignon. Once there, we had to run around, chat with information real quick and get the bus to the TGV train station- all within about 20 minutes. We were scared we were stuck in Avignon, but luckily the ticket line moved really quickly and we made a reservation and got to the train by 10:30 this morning. Success. Or so we thought.

As luck would have it, Team Australia was staying at the same famous hostel as we were, and the organizer and I had complimentary directions, so we took the lead. We were supposed to catch a bus to the hostel, but the bus stop signs consisted of a rugged looking pole set in a unstable looking rubber base, if there was any sign at all. So we waited at a station for 15 minutes, then were told it was the wrong buses. So we proceeded to walk farther and farther, in the direction of the hostel, in attempt to find the bus stop. Let's just say we ended up walking all the way to the bus stop we were supposed to get off at. so from there, we walked about 1 km up the steepest, San Francisco style hill ever. My calves were burning, backpack indenting it's 35 pounds into my collar bone, and the night sleeping on the ashen floor was not helping.

But we made it, we survived the night, and we immediately crashed into our 11 person dorm room for a couple hour nap. Now I sit here, after eating a pizza, having never felt that hungry in my life! Luckily the internet is free, the atmosphere is nice, and I have a fabulous bed that I will be heading back to after this. I hope my story conveys even half of what I hope it will. I love traveling! Seriously, I do. I also love sleeping. Peace!