two backpacks and a diaper bag

Friday, May 18th. Avignon-Nîmes-Barcelona. Due to the French train strikes, our train plans had to change. Originally, we were supposed to leave Avignon and head to the TGV station before taking a direct train to Barcelona. We were supposed to leave on the 8:27 train at Avignon Centre and arrive in Barcelona 12:38. It was supposed to be a four-hour journey. The train strike changed all that.

Yesterday, we spent some time looking at various options for getting to Barcelona. Renting a car in Avignon and returning it in Barcelona would cost about $800. Not gonna happen. We could stay two more nights in Avignon, but then we would have to find a place for us to stay and we would lose the two nights we already have in Barcelona. A bus could also be an option. A bus that leaves at 4am would take 6 hours to get to Barcelona. A bus that leaves at a more reasonable hour would take about 8 hours. Both just seemed painful.

We searched other points of departure. Perpignan, for example, or Marseilles. Then we came across Nîmes. It would only take 30 minutes by train from Avignon Centre to Nîmes, and then a 3.5 hours by train to Barcelona. This seemed to be the best option. The train to Barcelona from Nîmes leaves at 5pm, though. We could leave Avignon on the 3pm train, and wait in Nîmes for 1.5 hours, or we could take the train in the morning and spend a couple of hours in Nîmes before we take the train out to Barcelona.

We decided to take the 9:38 train to Nîmes.

So this morning, we woke up at 7, cooked some breakfast, cleaned up the apartment a bit, showered, packed, got Arthur ready, and we were out of the apartment by 9. The walk to the train station took about 20 minutes.

When we got to the station, we didn’t see our train on the departure screen. There was no 9:38 train to Nîmes. The only Nîmes journey was at 10:45 and at 11:45.

We had to wait in line at the SNCF counter anyway to get a refund for our Avignon-Barcelona tickets, so we took that opportunity to ask the officer about our Nîmes train. After we got our refund, the officer told us that there were no trains running to Nîmes. They had replaced the trains by buses. She told us to take the 10:45 bus to Nîmes. I looked on Google to see how long the bus journey would be. Google said 1.5 hours.

While waiting for the bus, Sean went to the Avis counter to see how much a car rental would cost if we were to return it in Nîmes. If the price was reasonable, we would take the car. That way, we would be able to visit Pont du Gard along the way.

The Avis person said that it would cost 200euro for the day. Due to the train strike, the demand for rental cars increased, and therefore the cost also increased.

We were not willing to pay 200euro for the day. So we waited for the bus.

At 10:18, Arthur fell asleep. At 10:35, the bus arrived. At 10:40 we were seated on the bus at the last row. We liked the last row. It gave us privacy and more space with Arthur. At 10:42, Arthur woke up. At 10:45, the bus departed.

The journey did take about one and a half hours. It did not go straight to Nîmes, though. It stopped at another city to drop off a person, and then it carried on to Nîmes. We arrived at our final destination around 12:15. More or less.

Once we got off the bus, we looked for a place to leave our luggage. The SNCF personnel said we could leave our luggage at Hotel Abalone, just right outside the train station. Sure enough, we found the hotel quite easily, and dropped off our two big backpacks there for 5 Euro each.

Then, we headed out to explore the town.

As it turned out, we were in town during the Pentecost de Feria which is a festival in Nîmes celebrating the Spanish-style bullfight. Usually, the Nîmes bullfight does not involve killing of the bull, but once a year during this festival, they follow the Spanish style. I tried to look for tickets online, but they were only going to do it at 6pm, so we wouldn’t be able to see it.

The town itself, though, was transformed into a place with festive atmosphere. The promenade connecting the train station to the fountain near the Arena was lined with booths.

Right by the fountain, there were stalls selling Spanish food like paella and tapas, and stalls selling hats, jewelry, bullfight-related shirts, costumes, etc.

As we walked through the stalls, I started to get hungry. The burger in one of the stalls looked good. I turned to Sean and asked if we should just have lunch here. I couldn’t decide. Sean made the decision to have lunch first. “Where?” I asked.

“Here,” he responded. “You seem to like the burger.”

Easy decision ever.

I got the burger and Sean got paella. Good food. Nice choice.

After lunch, we walked towards the Arena. It looked like the Colosseum in Rome, but it was more well-maintained because it continued to be used for centuries until today. This weekend, it is being used for the festival, but the usual Nîmes bullfighting event would also take place here.

From here, we walked north to another Roman ruin. On the way there, we walked down Boulevard Victor Hugo. Crowds of people were spilling out into the street. Hanging out, drinking, chilling. Sean and I reminisced to the time when we used to go out partying.

We talked about how we don’t really miss it now. Instead of clubbing and loud music, we would prefer a conversation over dinner and wine. It reminded me of January of last year when we went to Zouk with a friend. We felt so old and out of place. The loud clubbing noise wasn’t for us anymore.

Anyway, at Maison Carrée, we took pictures, read about the temple, and then walked toward Les Jardins de la Fontaine. The walk there was surprisingly pleasant. We saw the man-made river and both Sean and I looked at each other and said almost simultaneously that this reminded us of Amsterdam.

It wasn’t long until we got to the park.

At the edge of the park, there seemed to be a performance. We saw a small bull being led into a truck. People were dispersing. We had just missed the event.

In the park, we found a bench with a shade. I sat and fed Arthur. He fell asleep. We transferred him to the car seat. Then Sean and I decided to sit on the grass. Sean laid down and took a nap while I wrote the previous blog entry. At first, it was quiet enough for a nap, but then these two girls hanging out near us started laughing so loudly. One must have said something funny for the other one to shriek and laugh in a high pitch tone.

Arthur was only asleep for about half an hour before he woke up. We left him in the car seat and tried to distract him from his desire of being held. We walked towards the Temple of Diane. Then we walked some more around the park. It was very sunny so Arthur was squinting anytime he looked at a pigeon or people around us. Not long after, he fell asleep again.

After a couple more rounds in the park, we headed back to town.

We went by Les Halles (a Market Hall), the Clock Tower, Nîmes Cathedral. And we continued walking around the pedestrian-only zone, turning left and right and going straight with no real destination.

At one point, we passed by a building with lots of photographers outside the main door. We found out it was a hotel: Hotel de Ville. It didn’t look like a hotel. It looked more like an official building like a parliament or police station or something like that. We thought they were a film crew or something like that. But then I saw one of the photographer holding a microphone with the word TV on it, like WKTV or something. So it couldn’t be a film crew. They were waiting for someone important to come out of the hotel.

We decided to hang out at the side. Sean said it couldn’t be an international celebrity. What would they be doing in Nîmes. It was probably a French celebrity or something. I was curious anyway.

Then the photographers started taking pictures. I motioned Sean to come and look. He said I could go ahead. He was going to wait with Arthur on the side.

I tried to look. I turned back and said to Sean, “I think it’s Pamela Anderson.” I shrugged nonchalantly.

“Pamela Anderson?” Sean replied back. His face lighted up. “Oh, I gotta take a picture of her.” He motioned for me to take the stroller. I took over. Then he ran to where the reporters were and started taking pictures. Later on he told me how it went down.

He said, “Pamela, Pamela, here.” He took several pictures, and then said, “I love you Pamela. Bye!”

He ran back to where I was and we watched the whole procession go. We decided to follow them. They were walking quite slowly. She stopped at one point to let the reporters take pictures. She said something to them. Then she got in the backseat of a black sedan.

Sean regretted not asking her a question to why she was here in Nîmes.

She was holding a sign protesting the bullfight. I googled up Pamela Anderson and Nîmes later on and found out that she had been here a couple of times to protest the festival.

After the encounter with Pamela Anderson, we continued on walking around. Window-shopping, mostly. We tried on a couple 3-Euro hats. Didn’t really like them. Then we headed back to the hotel. Arthur woke up just before we got to the hotel.

We fed and changed him at the hotel lobby then let him lie down and stretch out for a while. Then, we sat on the square outside the hotel, ordered some drinks, and people-watched.

When it was finally time to go, we got our backpacks back from the hotel and made our way to the train station.

We bought some sandwiches from a cafe inside the train station and made our way to the train platform.

Our train to Barcelona arrived at 5:05pm. When we bought the tickets yesterday, they only had the first class ticket left for the three of us. So we rode in the first class carriage all the way to Barcelona.

When we got on the train, there were people sitting on our seats. We had to let them know that these were our seats. They got up and moved to a different seat. I wondered how that happened. When we bought the tickets, the system automatically reserved seats for us. I wondered how they bought their tickets. Anyway, it didn’t matter, as long as we got our seats.

The train was already 5 minutes late. Then, we stopped at a station after Montpellier and the conductor went on the PA to say that there was a problem with the train and that they were investigating it. We stopped there for about 15 minutes. The train was now 30 minutes late, apparently. I was glad we had bought the sandwiches. This might be a long train ride. I just hoped we wouldn’t have to get off the train and change to a different train… or worse, do another bus-train exchange like we did from Budapest to Zagreb.

Thankfully, everything worked out well. The train went 295 km/h several times. How do I know this? They posted the speed on the screen.

Throughout the journey, Arthur took two naps. Sean also had to change Arthur’s diaper twice.

There was supposed to be a changing station at our carriage, but the toilet was out of order. So Sean had to walk 6 carriages away, including the dining carriage, to get to the nearest changing station. He had to be careful because the train was going really fast and it would swerve sometimes. Also, the second time he had to change Arthur, the train stopped at a station. He had to wait for some passengers to get off and get on the train with their luggages. It turned out to be quite an exercise.

All is well, though. We arrived in Barcelona 20 minutes late. Good thing the hotel is right next to the station.

The check in process was quick. However, when we went to our room, we were greeted with a puddle on the floor. There was a leak. We quickly went back downstairs to let them know of the problem.

As a result, they gave us a new room. Upgraded. There were rose petals on our bed.

It has been quite an interesting day. And long. The train strike forced us to find another way. It turned out to be full of adventure and stories to tell.