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La
vie en Golden: Mensa goes to Paris by Bill Lindsley I set the alarm clock for ten past four, but, due to that sixth sense we have, woke up at ten to four. This allowed me to have an extra cup of tea before starting the journey to Waterloo to join the rest of the Mensa people who were going to Paris by Eurostar. As a new member of the TravelSIG I had not met anyone in the party, and this, of course, presented some difficulty at Waterloo. However, after a certain amount of fruitless questioning of travel couriers and the ticket office, I met Barry, Jenny and Neil. Once we had found our seats on the train, we were joined by the other TravelSIG members, Mike and Frances, and then the main Mensa party arrived. They seemed to be mainly American members who were over for the Golden celebrations. The train set out at a leisurely pace and we were dismayed to find that we were being overtaken by the commuter trains. Still, it was very comfortable sitting there and chatting to each other, and the time passed very quickly. Soon we were in the tunnel, the traverse of which took us about twenty minutes, and then we were in France. No more commuter trains passed us, and we noticed that we were passing the traffic on the motorway very quickly indeed. It did not feel as if we were going fast, as the journey was so smooth. There was one way to check things. We bought some drinks from the trolley which passed through the coach. Now, everyone knows that as soon as there is a drink in front of you, the train lurches and bounces over the points, and you can gain a very good idea of the speed at which you are travelling. This one kept on travelling smoothly and we might as well have been stopped, for there was very little movement indeed. After three hours we arrived at the Gare du Nord in Paris and were met by some of our French colleagues, who had planned several trips for us, varying from a boat trip on the Seine to a guided tour of Montmartre. There was one party visiting Notre Dame and another going on a tour of the city by bus. Of course there was also one to the Eiffel Tower. After some discussion Barry, Jenny, Frances and I joined the boat trip on the Seine. This lasted for one hour and because it was a group booking we were able to go for a mere twenty francs. I am sure that it was the best offer that day. We were given a commentary in five languages as we sat in the sunshine and looked at bridges, palaces and, of course, Notre Dame from the river. It was a truly unforgettable trip, and we were grateful to our French friends for organising it. After the boat trip the party split up, and Frances and I decided to wander around the streets for a while, soaking up the atmosphere and looking at the stalls on the Left Bank, before going and looking round Notre Dame cathedral. There were queues to get in and there were queues to get out, but it was worth the visit although, despite notices everywhere banning the use of video recorders and cameras, there were occasional visitors who used them anyway. It was a pity that some of these illegal photographers used flash lights to take their pictures, because it really does interfere with the enjoyment of the majority of decent people. We had wanted to go and look at the Jardin de Luxembourg and Pere Lachaise cemetery, but time was passing, so we went to look at Sacre Coeur and Montmartre instead. Sacre Coeur was just as busy as Notre Dame, but we still enjoyed the visit, and then we wandered through the narrow streets of Montmartre until we found a quiet little restaurant. There we relaxed over a very pleasant meal and a carafe of red wine. By the time we left the restaurant we were tired and happy, and it was time to travel back to the Gare du Nord and join the others on the train. It seemed that everyone had enjoyed the visit, and our French colleagues had been very welcoming. There were lots of conversations taking place as the train pulled out of the station, and it was fascinating to hear the different languages and accents. What a pity the whole world cannot be as friendly as all the passengers on that train. To put the
final gloss on the day, we found that many of us had achieved a "personal
best". As we all sat there peacefully, it was announced that we were
travelling at 300 kilometres, or 187 miles, per hour. Of course, once
we arrived in England, we did not travel quite as fast as that, but we
eventually arrived back at Waterloo and after much hand shaking we went
our separate ways. I arrived home at midnight. It had been a wonderful
day out with like-minded people, and it would be so good to be able to
do it more often. First published in VISA issue 22 (autumn 1996). |