We had to get up at 5 a.m. in order to catch our 6:43 a.m. train.  Jayné said she didn’t want to be running to the train station again so I made sure we got up in plenty of time.  I tried hard to relax and not be panicky about missing the train.  We ate the last of our food for breakfast – all but the Munster cheese.  I just couldn’t bring myself to eat it when I remembered that horrible smell, even though it didn’t smell that way now, and Jayné was a lot more sensitive to strong cheeses than I was so we ended up throwing it away.  Another cheese bites the dust.  We were not having very good cheese experiences so far!

            We were sitting at the table drinking our Ricoré when I looked at my watch.  “It’s 6:13.  We need to leave in a couple minutes.” I told Jayné.  We had a few last minute dishes to wash.  It was a bit tricky carrying our heavy suitcases down the windy stairs and Jayné almost fell.  By the time we were safely outside with all of our bags I looked at my watch again.  “It’s 6:25!”  We had only 18 minutes until our train left the station and we had a long way to go on foot.  Now I began to panic.  We cannot miss this train!  It was our only option for leaving town today. 

            We began to quickly walk towards the station, rolling our bags along the cobblestones.  The cobblestones made the suitcases unstable and Jayné’s bag kept tipping over.  I began to pull ahead.  “We can’t miss the train!  We can’t miss the train!” was all that kept running through my head.  When I got to the corner I paused for Jayné to catch up, then we were off again.  I was walking as fast as I could without breaking into a run.  I was now half a block ahead of Jayné.  Now a full block ahead.  “Hurry, hurry.”  I looked at my watch – 6:35.  I felt my heart sink.  “We’re not going to make it.” I thought, yet I never slackened my pace.  Suddenly in the next block I saw the tea shop.  Only one more block to go!  At the corner I paused again to take out our ticket.  A quick glance at my watch – 6:38.  We have five minutes.  “We can do it!  The station is in sight.  Come on Jayné!” 

            I stayed a bit ahead so I could figure out which platform our train was leaving from.  A quick glance at the schedule board – Platform B.  That means going down the stairs, under the tracks, and back up on the other side.  I waited for Jayné and we headed down the stairs, lugging our bags.  As we were passing through the tunnel a train pulled in over our heads – our train!  Quickly up the stairs again I couldn’t see the voiture numbers on the train.  I asked a conductor and he gestured down the train to our right and said something I didn’t understand.  I headed off the way he had pointed with Jayné close behind but I still couldn’t see any car numbers!  Jayné yells “Just get on the train!  We need to get on this train!”  So I climbed in the closest doorway with Jayné at my heels.  As I look up I see a sign – Voiture 18.  “Look at that Jayné.  We’re on the right car!”  We move along the aisle to our assigned seat numbers, the train begins to pull out of the station and after kicking out some guys who were crashed in our seats we hoisted our bags with much more difficulty than ever before in the overhead rack and plopped down in our seats, out of breath, exhausted and sweating.  Well, so much for our leisurely morning stroll to the station. 

            Our train sped along through Alsace and I watched the scenery out my foggy window.  It was really sad to me as we passed along the number of train stations in small towns that were completely boarded up and painted with graffiti.  At one time in the not so distant past the trains would have stopped here and people would get on and off – perhaps visiting family or coming home from a trip to the city, maybe even commuting to and from work.  But now our train whizzed by without even slowing down.  For me as an American (where in America the automobile reigns supreme) the European train system seemed as bustling and alive as ever could be.  But as we passed through these boarded up stations I could see that the automobile had definitely had an impact on the train systems of Europe as well.  I would have loved to see the time when trains were the uncontested kings of transport!

            As the train hurtled farther and farther south the scenery outside my window began to change.  Part of the time we were following along the Rhône river but as the tracks moved away from the river we saw a drier, rockier environment with many rugged black stalked grape vines.  Here and there small stone outbuildings with red tile roofs dotted the countryside along with olive trees putting out fresh, new leaves.

            We got off the train in Orange – a very small station which I was glad to see was still in operation and I approached the newsstand to ask directions to the tourist information office.  The woman behind the counter was talking to an older man who was on the customer side of the counter.  They were chatting in a friendly manner.  He was clearly not a customer although I was unclear as to his relationship with the proprietress of the newsstand.  I politely excused myself.  “Pardon.  Où est l’office du tourisme?  The woman behind the counter produced a tourist map and the man began to give me directions, speaking very slowly as he pointed and drew on the map with his pen.

            “We are here.”  He said as he made an X on the map at the train station.  “Walk straight down this street, through the square, veer to the right and continue straight to the fountain.  The tourist office is here on the corner past the fountain.”  He said making another X on the map.  As he was explaining the directions slowly I had been nodding and saying “Oui” periodically to indicate I was following him.  Nevertheless, when he was done explaining he began over again and repeated the directions, this time drawing a line on the map for us to follow.  I continued to say “Oui” and “d’accord” to let him know I understood.  When he began to explain it for the third time I finally said “Je comprends” which means “I understand” and the woman behind the counter piped in and said “She understands you!”  He finally sat back with a nod and a satisfied air that he had done his job well and I would not be getting lost – at least not on his account.  I said “Merci” and Jayné and I went out of the station into the warm air of the south of France and began to head toward the heart of town with the map in hand and the lines and X’s to guide us.

            We hadn’t yet gone a block when the extended handle of Jayné’s suitcase suddenly snapped in two.  After ten days of rigorous travel with the weight of it’s own contents and those of other bags piled on top of it along with the countless other trips it had seen in it’s lifetime it decided it finally had enough.  Without the handle it was impossible to roll the bag along without bending completely over.  Jayné took the strap off her camera bag and attempted to rig up the strap to pull the suitcase.  It took about ten minutes of fiddling to figure out the best way to attach it.  But when we started off again it was apparent without the rigidity of the handle all of the weight of the suitcase would pull on your arm.  Plus the strap was thin and the weight of the case made it cut into your hand and arm.  Jayné was struggling.  Every half a block or so she would have to stop and switch arms.  It was almost 5 o’clock and I had a feeling that the tourist office would close at 5 so I traded suitcases with Jayné.  She rolled mine and I took hers.  It really did pull hard on your arm socket but I bore the pain and we were able to keep up a fairly quick pace with me switching arms only a couple of times.

            We got to the tourist office at 5 minutes till 5, just as the employee was walking out the door and locking up.  We quickly asked about hotels (we had given up on B&B’s) and she was extremely unhelpful.  She wouldn’t even take the time to grab a list of hotels for us.  She motioned across the square.  “There’s a hotel over there.”  She said as she continued to close and lock the door and with that she was suddenly gone.  All of our rushing had been useless!

            Jayné stayed put with the bags while I crossed the square to check out the hotel.  When I got there to my dismay the door was locked and there was a note posted on the door that said “Out.  We’ll be back Saturday at 2 pm.”  This was Friday.  I guess we wouldn’t be staying at this hotel.  There was a woman wiping down some tables at the café next door so I asked her if she knew of any hotels nearby.  She wasn’t sure but she thought there was one around the corner a couple of blocks away.  I went back to get Jayné and the bags and we set out in search of it.  After getting sidetracked in a textile shop for a few minutes we found the hotel easily enough down a tiny alley (or was it a street?) and entered the lobby. 

            Two young ladies were helping some other people check in.  A jolly little man – the owner of the hotel – came from the back and greeted us with a smile.  They had a room in our budget and he wanted to show it to us so we decided to check it out.  We followed him up two flights of stairs to the second floor (third floor if you’re counting the American way).  He showed us the room but told us that he did not like this room “It’s very cold.”  He told us.  “The sun doesn’t come in the windows.  But we have another room.  Very large, very nice and warm.  I’ll give it to you for a special price.  Come see.”  He led us up another flight of stairs to the top of the building where we entered a spacious, peaceful looking room with two enormous beds and west facing windows.  It had its own private bathroom and everything looked clean so we told him we would take it.

            We went back downstairs to get our bags and the girls, Miriam – the owner’s daughter and Christine – the housekeeper, helped us carry them up the three flights of stairs to our room.  We asked them about restaurants and Miriam recommended the one directly across the street.  She could pop over and make a reservation for us if we liked.  We agreed and we watched from our window as she walked over to Le Forum Restaurant to make our reservation.  Until then we crashed for a much needed nap.  We awoke a little later feeling slightly refreshed and after a quick shower to wash away the travel grime we walked over to the restaurant where they were expecting us.  Our coats were hung in an open armoire by the door and the proprietress seated us.  We ordered a bottle of local wine and for the next couple of hours enjoyed each course of our meal as we talked.  A few other parties eventually came in and dined.  Here, as we had noticed before in Paris, the little dogs were welcome and one of them now sat quietly at his master’s feet all during the evening.

            Our meal was beautifully presented and tasted good but it was not anything exceptional.  Nevertheless, we enjoyed the experience and we left the restaurant feeling relaxed and satisfied.  When we left the restaurant we were drawn to the end of the block by the ruins next to the ancient theater that were now floodlit after dark.  It was amazing.  They seemed to loom over us even more than in the daytime and the stones stood out in sharp relief.  We saw a couple of cats roaming the ruins and wondered if they were wild or tame.  After soaking up this bit of history we walked back the half block to our hotel and went to sleep in our enormously comfortable beds.