I HATE the French

Gare du Nord

I arrived at the Paris deployment center for all travelers to and from The North. Backpack, bike, and I struggle down the platform to the terminal to seek out luggage storage, where my bike will spend the next few days.

Theoretically.

That is, at least, how I had it worked out in my head. I make my way over to the detectors; where I am confronted by a small middle eastern man; one finger pointed to the bike box and the other waving in a symbolic gesture of, ¨Um...yeah...no.¨

¨No bike?¨

The gesture continues.

Point taken.

Line 5: Gare Du Nord ---> Bastille.

I get in the ticket line that goes out the door; and soon realize that's because there is only one person selling tickets to the metro.

Helpful. Thanks dicks. I mean French. I wait and eventually collect a batch of tickets before heading off up and down multple stairs, backpack and bike en tow, and eventually find The Metro.

On to Bastile. Where, as Robin Williams said, Marie Antionette gave the ultimate head. Where I am to make my first move on the Paris metro backpack and bike en tow.

Game on.

Line 1: Bastille ---> Gare du Lyon

I had to go here anyway. To catch Tuesday's train to The Jura. So no biggie if I just store the bike here. Saves me a morning trip when I have to leave. I get to the station, and look for luggage storage, located conveniently at the complete other side of the station.

I set off. Backpack and bike en tow. I reach luggage storage and I swear I am greeted by the exact same guy. With the exact same message.

No bike.

What the hell is it with the French? They love cycling, they love cyclists, they host the biggest cycling event in the history of the world. Why does the entire system shut down the minute someone wants to travel with a bike? All of a sudden when a bike ends up in a train station they are mystified as to why anyone would engage in any activity with such a contraption.

But now is not the time, as it's time to figure out What To Do. I cut my losses and throw a couple things into my daypack and store my backpack in a locker. Now I take up about the same amount of space, but I'm more agile and light on my feet.

Relatively speaking.

Line 1: Gare du Lyon ---> Champs Elysees Ciemenceau

Back all the way to the other side of the station. Back down the tunnel. Back to Line 1. Only this time it's crowded. I angle myself and the bike into the car. More and more people get on. I place the bike in Super Stealth Vertical Position, and pray that they all need to get off before me. Because as it stands there is no way I am moving from this spot. And I still have to change trains.

They pack in as Champs Elysees approaches. And we stop.

Stop means Go Time.

¨Perdon, perdon...perdon.¨ But there is not enough space, and there are not enough French people in this world who listen to others. I take my bike, still in Super Stealth Vertical Position, angle it forward, and just as soon as there is enough space and enough small children removed from harm's way...

WHAM.

I lower the bike, clear space to the door, push off bobsled style, accelerate out of the train, pick up the bike and run.

Remember I'm light on my feet now, so yes I can run.

Line 13: Champs ---> Place du Clichy

Wait a second. This hostel sheet says my stop is Marie de Clichy.

Where the hell is that?

Line 13: Place du Clichy ---> Marie de Clichy.

Looking back in the background of my life, trying to figure out how the I ended up here.

Marie de Clichy ---> Youth Hostel.

Still not sure where I went wrong in life.

But I do the best I can with what I got to work with.