Homebound - Part 1: A journey to Paris

Time had come to leave my beautiful island. I left it with a broken heart for all the beautiful people that I am leaving behind. But as everyone is saying: It is not a "good bye", it is a "see you soon".

Leaving the island in tears with all the precious farewells from my friends I was blessed with a beautiful day and an amazing flight around the island. Unfortunately I was so taken by surprise that I didn't manage to take pictures. But the breathtaking view will stay in my memory forever.

In the afternoon I got to Faial where I spend my last night on the Azores. I was rewarded with a room with a view over the harbour and on Pico mountain. I enjoyed the beautiful evening and sunset eating fresh fruit and yoghurt on my room's balcony.

This night I was well aware of the differnces between a city and Corvo. I got a beautiful view, but my room was also facing the cobbled stone street on which cars were passing by every 10 seconds... So I had the choice between a fresh or a quite room. I chose the quite.

The next "morning" I had coffee and lunch at café internacional, where the waiter apologized for approaching me in English when he found out I was answering in Portuguese (yes ;) ).

Later in the evening around 7p.m. I arrived in Lisbon.
Anxiously I waited for my suitcases ... ... ... finally, what felt to be the last two suitcases, they fell on the luggage belt. I gathered all my strength, pulled up my sleeves and took a fighters position in order to take the 25 and 35kg heavy suitcases off the belt. Puh I did it. First mission  accomplished!

Next task: METRO.
So I heaved the suitcases on to a trolley and worked my way through the airport. Even whole families seemed to be travelling with less luggage than me ;)
After a quick change back into flip-flops. I reached the Metrostation. Thank god, they had elevators, I thought. Unfortunately those didn't go all the way down to the railways... So I worked out a position with my backpack on my back, the Laptop on top of one of the suitcases and a suitcase in each hand... one suitcase up front the other in the back... push, stop. Hah I am on the escalator. After a brief moment of victory and selfsatisfaction fear arose... How am I going to get off?? My vivid mind already painted a picture of me lying prone in my scattered belongings. But the right angle and an enthusiastic push saved me from that dark prospect.
Happily and without bruises I made it to Oriente and after a little confusion even to the right station. It really is troubeling when the information board says Madrid/Hendaye and your train doesn't pass through Madrid. But after a call to my secretary (Mom and Dad) we found out that one part of the train would be going to Madrid and the other to France. Now I also understood why the nice man on the information desk insisted on me walking to the front of the platform. ;)

I found my train, my wagon, my seat and gladly the train was half empty. I also found a convenient place for my suitcases where I didn't have to lift them up. But nevertheless I must have been a funny sight kneeling down in the ally in order to push them into the right position.

And here started my 24 hour, multi lingual trip through southern Europe. I was amazed by all the German students backpacking through Europe and boarding the train with me.
Soon most people around me were talking Spanish, including the conductor. This is when I realized how well I understood the portuguese mother and son sitting and talking right behind me :) .
The Spanish countryside I got to see in the morning was really pretty. It started off with far stretched fields and hills on the horizon and changed into a mountain area as we were riding through the Pyrenees. I loved the cute little country houses with their natural stone facades but was startled by the out of context, disjointed, seemingly planlessly thrown into the surrounding, ugly multistory apartment buildings that appeared in many parts of the country.

Reaching FRANCE
Eventually the train reached its final destination, Hendaye. After an interesting struggle with my cumbersome luggage I made it out of the train. Looking for a way to get over to the right platform I spotted a trolley point... to my dismay without trolleys. Only a few minutes later I discovered the reason. In order to get to the right platform there were only stairs. Great!
So I changed back into flip-flops and got ready. Since people here didn't appear very helpful I chose the empty staircase. At least I would avoid curious faces and embarressment this way. I stationed my luggage on top of the stairs and started carrying it down one by one. The first piece was the lighter suitcase. 25kg. That didn't sound too bad. I lifted it up (puh) and got it down the two flights of stairs. Not to bad for the beginnig. With the heavier suitcase I had to take a break in the middle. Oh dear how was I getting them back up? Maybe 1:30 hours wouldn't be enough to change trains after all.
I pulled my stuff over to the next flight of stairs and started in the same order... This time going up, I already had to stop with the lighter suitcase. And I am glad noboday was hearing the strange noises of exhaustion lol.
Under even these noises I managed to carry the heavier suitcase up to the first landing. There I had to take a break and to switch strategies. not one more step I could lift that bugger. So I ended up pulling it on the wheels step by step... dripping in sweat  I reached the top of the stairs.
The train to Paris arrived way before schedule giving me enough time to sort out my mess. This time it only took some apologetic smiling while I was pulling my obese luggage grazing the seats on each side of the ally up to the luggage racks. Exhausted but imensely proud of my self I sat down in my final seat for this journey.

At 6 p.m. the train reached Paris and my father stormed the wagon in order to help me getting my things out. I made it :)