Un petit poste en français

Alors, peut etre un peu sur le voyage…

J’étais assise à côté d’un officier (ou je sais pas quoi) dans le Royal Canadian Air Force (RCAF) dans l’avion, qui était plutot sympa. Le vol depuis Francfort était long (des fois j’avais l’impression que l’heure n’avancait pas du tout) mais on est arrivés a Toronto à l’heure. On devait passer par la nouvelle gare / terminale (je sais pas comment dire) à Toronto, mais l’avion s’est arrêté plutôt loin. Le bus, sans blague, était au moins un vingtaine de minutes, et plutôt un demi heure, et puis passer par la douane était pire. C’est là où je me suis rendue compte que je ne suis plus considerée residente du Canada…biZARRE! Je sais pas si ça veut dire que je peux emmener plus de trucs au Canada ou en France…mais peut etre que ça ne change rien du tout. Finalement je suis passée, et j’ai retrouve mon père, qui m’attendait. En France il était vers 2h00 du mat.

On est rentrés chez mon père, et j’ai essayé de ne pas me coucher, pour pouvoir m’habituer plus vite à l’heure locale. C’était presque 6h00 en France quand je me suis couchée. Je me suis quand meme réveillée avant 8h00 (c’est à dire 14h00 en France) et depuis je me réveille vers 6h30 tous les matins…c’est en train de me tuer!

J’ai passe la matinée en faisant le ménage (bizarre, je sais, mais j’avais besoin de faire quelque chose!) et j’ai commencé a regarder toutes mes affaires dans la cave (il y a pas mal de trucs que je veux emmener en France). L’après-midi je voulais faire un petit tour en voiture, pendant lequel je trouvais que les freins etaient un peu bizarre, mais je me disais que c’etait peut etre une question d’habitude (je n’étais plus du tout habituée au … merde … comment ça se dit en francais … le truc pour changer de vitesse) mais j’étais un peu inquiète quand même. Je suis passée d’abord chez le père d’une copine, pour savoir son nouvel adresse (elle a demenagé en février) et je l’ai vraiment surprise en arrivant chez elle. J’ai pas pû faire la meme pour Lesli (comme prévu) car je pouvais pas savoir où elle était. Tant pis.

Samedi j’aurais dû partir vers Montreal, avec un arrêt en route prévu chez un ami. Malheureusement, ma pauvre voiture etait meme pire que je croyais, alors ce n’etait plus possible de le prendre. J’ai acheté un billet de train (comme ça coûte cher ici!) pour dimanche, et je suis allée voir un autre ami en Oakville.

Dimanche, le fait de devoir me levée tôt n’a posé aucun problème…par contre le voyage (presque 5h en train) était plus difficile. J’ai lu la moitié d’un livre que je venais juste d’acheter, j’ai fait quelques mots croisés, et j’ai discuté avec le mec en face de moi. Je me disait bien qu’il était Europeen (c’est vrai que ça se voit), mais avant de discuter avec lui, je pouvais pas deviner d’où. Finalement, il est Portugues, et bizarrement j’étais un peu deçue de ne pas pouvoir discuter en francais avec lui.

Dave était en retard, mais pas trop, et puisqu’il venait de se levé, on est allait prendre un petit dejeuner (à 14h00…meme si moi j’etais debout depuis 6h30) qui etait super super bon. Mmmmmm bacon (dans notre sens, pas le vôtre). C’était assez tranquille comme journée…on a loué un video (Freddy vs Jason) de DVDO (plutôt marrant comme nom) et puis on a regardé le match de hockey (Canadiens de Montréal contre les Bruins de Boston). J’ai raté la troisième periode, et finalement je me suis couchée super tôt…mais je pouvais plus dormir. J’ai presque fini de lire mon livre, mais je me suis quand meme reveillee encore une fois vers 6h30. J’ai fini mon livre, et j’ai regarde plusieurs trucs de con a la télé (aaah, comme c’est bien d’avoir plus de 3 chaines).

Et voilà. Ce soir Dave est chez ses parents pour un repas de Paques, mais j’ai pas pu joindre mon ami chez qui j’espèrais pouvoir rester ce soir. Tant pis…demain. Et puis après demain…Ottawa (sauf que le train / bus pour Ottawa depuis ici sont vraiment trop chers…c’est con notre système de transport public ici…je vous le jure! Et ma pauvre Justy attend toujours voire si on va pouvoir la reparer, ou bien si elle va devoir se retraitée…

Chapter 66 – To sleep, or not to sleep

March 3, 2004 – 4:40am
Guess I’ve crossed the border – or at least my phone signal has – I just got the same message I’ve had each time I’ve crossed a border – reminding me that if I make a call from outside of France, I get entered into some contest. My second clue (upon looking at my phone) is that I’m on a Czech network now. I know what you’re thinking: the force in this one is strong…

Yep, this station (NÁPSTUPIŠTÌ) definitely has a less-than-German ring to it. Now, if I could just get back to sleep!

Or not, a man just came in with a badge on (“Exchange Office”) offering me Czech money, stressing that it was official…hmmmm…I hope Dave and I manage to find each other at the train station and/or that my cell works to call him and/or that pay phones there take credit cards, because I’m a little hesitant to buy money from anyone but a bank machine.

Another couple of poli…cei now? Just walked by…nightsticks and all. I guess I don’t have that suspicious look though, because they didn’t look in too long. I guess it’s just as well that my cabin only has half a curtain to the hall, so they can just see me anyway.

5:10am
One last little scare: the train is going back the way we just came…but the girl in the next cabin (who thankfully speaks a little English) said it’s no problem – it’s going to Prague. After sitting at another station for 20 minutes, you can see how such a thing…and I just got my tickets checked again, which is actually quite relieving…Well, I don’t think I’ll be sleeping for a little while: too much keeps happening.

5:35am
So it looks like NÁPSTUPIÅ TÃŒ means platform. Oops. Ah will – it’s still not German!

New cabin-mate – a guy in camouflage fatigues. I’m not sure if I should feel safer or more intimidated. Neither I guess. Poor guy looks exhausted. I got a tired smile when I turned the lights down so he could sleep, although it doesn’t look like he will. I wonder how military service is different here, other than that it’s probably mandatory, and probably generally unpleasant.

6:00am
Seems like he’s on his way home…I wonder what they’ve been doing all night. He’s sort of laid back now, but hardly taking the three seats he has, like I did/would. Looks like he’s trying to sleep head-in-his-hands now…and now just sitting. I just feel so bad for the guy! I want to offer him chocolate or something, but I have a feeling the bar that I have (which has Ovalatine granules in it) wouldn’t go over so well. The texture is bizarre (kind of like chocolate with sand in it) so you have to really appreciate the taste.

Wow, the tracks are horrible here. You can feel the train hit the joints every few meters. No wonder the soldier can’t get comfortable.

6:40am
The soldier left, and has been replaced by 5 people. No more lying down for me. When he left, with a “ciao,” I realized two things. First – wow, ciao is really international; and second Czech (like Russian I guess) gives such a bizarre tone to a man’s voice. They couldn’t have been older than me, and was actually probably a couple of years younger, with a real baby face, but there was a roughness to his voice on that one word, despite the friendliness of the way he said it.

Chapter 65 – It’s 4am I must be…

March 2, 2004 (yep, still! – 9:52pm)
Freezing my butt off in the train station, but at least the cold is keeping me awake. This is mildly reminiscent of Zurich…which would have been around this time last year…but this time I’m going a little (11 hours) farther from Mulhouse to see Dave…but I also have a phone for when I get there!

I’m currently being entertained by the departures board, which is the kind that makes noise as the destinations move up the board (each letter has to flip individually). Of the 23 destinations on the board (on average every 3 or 4 minutes) we’re up to 23:26 (1 or 2 more turns of the board, and mine will be up!). The board turns after every other departure, so 2 new ones each turn. It’s now 9:57, and the next turn should be in 4 minutes…Wow, I’m a sad, sad individual.

10:12
We’re on the board! And from a platform about 20 feet from where I’m sitting. And some guy just sat down nearby with a “PRG” airline thing on his bag…hmmmm….

11:15
YAY! On the train! My final station entertainment was the tremendous number of people (mainly girls) with pink hair, or wearing pink, and carrying posters – I guess the Pink concert just let out (and surprising at is may be, this time I’m not being sarcastic).

March 3, 2004 – 3:50am
Nothing like that 3:45 wake up call…or visit. I’m not sure I was really awake when I realized that I was sitting up, and there was a guy standing in my cabin (where I’ve been the only person since about half an hour after we left Frankfurt). He said something I didn’t understand (shocking on a trip between two countries with two different languages, neither of which I speak) so I got out my tickets. The less than impressed response was “No tickets, passport!” I don’t think we could already be at the border, but I guess we’ve made the last of the stops in Germany. When I handed him my passport, 3 uniformed policemen suddenly showed up (one of whom took over with my passport and the border card that I – thankfully – hadn’t managed to lose). I can only imagine how much more fun this was “before communism fell” as Olivia (Romanian friend that was in Mulhouse last year) once put it. So simple, yet so hard to imagine for the average North American – or even Western European for that matter.

Well, of the very little I can see out the window, I think we just passed an airport, and the only other thing I see consistently is snow on the ground. Could it be…winter the way winter should be? Although I’m the first to admit that an early spring, like last year in Alsace, would be welcomed with open arms.

4:10
Still in Germany (I think: Marktredwitz). On my way back from the bathroom, I came across a compartment where they seemed to be putting a few confused people…without proper visas perhaps? I dunno, that could be my 4:00am imagination running away with me. I wonder how many policemen there are on this train, and if there’s a cabin like that in every car. If we are still in Germany (the nearest exit sign is in German, English, and what looks like Czech, so I guess this could be where they leave people that aren’t allowed in…then again, we’ve been here a good 10 minutes now, and other than the policeman having a cigarette outside, and the voices from the random cabin, nothing much seems to be going on (in this car at least). You know, policeman, or police officer even, doesn’t seem like the right term. Both seem too light if that makes any sense. I guess “polizei” is better, since, at least to me, it sounds more intimidating (not that they were at all scary – once I was actually awake). Anyway, it’s 4:25 and we’re off again. I’m seeing less snow now. I guess only time (roughly 4 hours of it) will tell if it’s snowy in Prague…