4.19.08
I broke down and paid the 3 euro reservation fee to take the TGV, which is and acronym, meaning Train of Great Speed. The normal train was an hour late, and this gets me to the Mediterranean faster. I hate the French train system. Something vaguely chaotic about it. Plus they leave only a few spaces for eurail pass holders like me, which is why I haven’t slept on a train in a few nights. I also hate the French language. There’s something hideous about it, to my ears. I’m still not sure if the people are actually rude, or if they just sound it because of their language. In any case, I’m not a huge fan of the French, as a people. Not that I hate them. It’s impossible to hate a large, diverse group. But you know what I mean.
Here’s the thing though, I love France. It may not have the epicness of Switzerland, but there is such a simple beauty in the French countryside. Rolling hills, bright yellow fields of canola, green hayfields that glisten in an almost blue reflection of the sky. Only eastern Bavaria , where I once lived, can compete with this place. One day, when I have the time, I will tour France by bicycle for a year or so. I think it’s the only way.