But today was the day my credit card decided not to work in the SNCF kiosk. Now, I had 78,00 Euros in cash, because I'd checked my stash at the hostel, but i saw that paying in cash meant joining a long slow moving queue after, naturally, being told to leave my bike outside, being "un question de securite" according to the tart train clerk in Strasbourg, though what risk I demonstrated was, naturally, beyond me. The queue meant I'd miss the 9:31am direct and have to take a train with changes.
After cursing and kicking the wretched machine which kept telling me my chip-enabled credit card was declined because my bank couldn't be reached, I redid the whole laborious ticket selection thing on another machine, well aware I was running out of time to make the train whose ticket i was trying to buy. This time the machine worked (5 attempts on the first machine had failed), so in a crazed rush, I bounced Wm, fully loaded, into carriage 15, after showing the train attendant that it was a folding bike, so i really had no need to reserve a space in the carriage with bike hooks. I hate those bike hooks, because as far as i can see, they are spoke busters. OK for a rental bike I guess, or one of the sturdy "sit up and beg" bikes, as the British wonderfully call them. Built like a tank, shopping basket on the front which you could transport a bunch of rocks in if you so desired.
Anyway, it was a stressful unloading of Wm, stuffing my river bags into the canvas duffel I use to corral everything for travel, and folding the bike, trying to avoid the 7 weeks of black grease now encrusting my chain, all in a space with small steps near each carriage door, and outside the already stinky toilet, then a scramble to find space for my baggage on the already full racks.
The trains of France have always been my bugbear as a cyclist. As a country that appreciates bicycling so much, I just wish the SNCF would take a few ideas from the German rail system about truly integrating bike and train travel. Let's face it, as the population ages, there will be more demand for handicap accessible public transport, so, like canaries in the coal mine, we cyclists are just the first wave of an oncoming flood. I've become much more aware of the need for thoughtful universal design since injuring my ankle. My disability is basically invisible, and I am not ready to "pack it in" where active sports are concerned, so I have little patience for excuses about why things can't be done. Baloney.
Still I made it, and train ride's a over 3 hours, and I'll have to make do with the limited selection of food in the dining car as, because of the trouble with the ticket kiosk, i missed my chance to buy takeout at the station. After leaving Annecy and sitting in the direction of travel to Aix-Le-Bains, the train reversed engines and I'm traveling backwards. At high TGV speed this is a recipe for motion sickness, so I have to hang out in the dining car. Also my seat buddies are a mother and her fidgety toddler son, who's chomping candy with his mouth wide open. Perhaps I need to dig out my earplugs again.
Oh well, Murphy's Law at work.
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