Traveling by train is peaceful. One is allowed time to think, gazing out at the landscape as it flashes by in glorious green. When traveling by train in a foreign country, however, the barriers permitting you from enjoying this peacefulness can be too much, but increasingly entertaining. On our journey through France for instance, we missed our train by a second (really, a second), struggled with signs printed in French (characteristic of an arrogant American, my first thought was, "Why can't they print this in English?!"), and currently, we're on board a train to Narbonne as stowaways. Okay, not really. We paid for our tickets online, but due to machines that only take credit cards with chips in them (come on), we, um, have no tickets in hand. Needless to say, I thrive on adventure, so I'm eating this up.
Our stowaway story starts with the conductor (non-English speaking conductor) asking for our tickets. Of course we had no tangible tickets, so through the gallant efforts of Ashley and her memory of the language, game-winning charade moves, as well as the use of an e-mail receipt shown on a smart phone, we managed to ward him off for a few minutes longer. Like Arnold, he'll be back.
To be continued...
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