That's French for ya!

This is a rant about France.

Note: I had no animosity towards France or the French people before my experience in Paris. I had always heard stereotypes, but never seen the truth first hand. However, as I've learned, there seems to be a mild amount of truth in stereotypes.

So a week ago, Chase and I were our way back to Bonn from Barcelona. We had to take a night train to Paris, then catch a connecting train to Cologne. One of the guys in our cabin was a French student studying mechanics, so we got to talking about school and life and what not. While we were talking, he asked us how long we are going to be in Paris and if we'd like a quick tour of the city. We were originally only supposed to be there for 2 hours, but since Chase and I had Eurail passes we decided to take a later train and see Paris while we could. Our group in the train cabin spent a good amount of time talking and sharing experiences, so when we arrived in Paris a few of them wanted to get a group picture. Our new friend, Koyu, went up to a Frenchman and asked if he would take a photo of us. His reply was simply, "No" followed by a swift turn of the head and pointing his nose high in the air. We ended up having to get Quentin, the French student, to ask someone in French in order for us to get our picture taken. It was the most bizarre thing ever. I've never seen someone turn down such a simple request. I tried not to think too much of it. We purchased some subway passes and Quentin proceeded to show us the city. Our first stop was the Sacre Coeur Basilica. It was on top of a hill, so in order to get there we would have to climb 3 or 4 flights of stairs. Since Chase's knee was injured he decided to wait at the bottom with the luggage while Quentin and I saw the church. He took a seat and started to drift into a nap when he was wakened by a gang of French 10 year olds. They were jeering at him, eyeing the luggage and smack talking in French to him. He claims he stood up, drew his knife, and just sighed thinking "is this really happening?" Luckily, the scare tactic worked and the kids ran off screaming "Policia! Policia!" When Quentin and I returned, I didn't believe his story, until he showed me the picture he took of them running off. Quentin just played it off "that's French for ya." They seriously couldn't have been more than 12 years old. We were happy to still have our bags, so we went to the next stop, Arc de Triomphe. Once we got there and snapped a few pictures, it started raining; not pouring rain, but enough to be an inconvenience. We didn't think much of it at the time. Quentin just played it off "That's French for ya!" We took a walk down the street and saw a few concept car exhibits. We had enough time to still see the Eiffel Tower before our train left. When we left the subway, it wasn't raining anymore, which was nice. We wanted to get a crepe and eat it at the Eiffel Tower, because it was the most French thing we could do at the time. As soon as we got our crepes and started walking to the tower, it started raining again. "That's French for ya!" We snapped a few pictures. The Eiffel tower looked terribly gloomy. It wasn't the picturesque view I've seen in all the postcards and movies. Regardless, it was still cool to actually see the tower. We had enough time for one more stop, Notre Dame. We went to the island it was on, took a picture, admired it for a minute, then went back on our way. Chase and I have had just about enough sight seeing in the past week, we just wanted to get back to Germany. We arrived back at the train station in time to ask a worker if we'd need a reservation for the train we were about to board. They answered "no," but as we were trying to board, 5 minutes before the train left, apparently the new answer was "you must have a reservation." We decided, "alright, that's fine. We must have had incorrect information. We'll just get on the next train." We went to the ticket office to try and purchase a reservation for the next train to Cologne. The guy behind the counter was giving us so much attitude.

"you may not purchase a reservation for this train, you must pay full price."

"but sir, we have Global Eurail passes (shows him ticket). Our tickets have already been paid for."

"this will not work. You must pay full price."

"why?"

"I do not have to tell you why."

This went on and on for about 10 minutes before he just starts typing on his computer for a bit. He says to us, "I can make you a reservation for a train to Brussels, but you must pay full price tickets from Brussels to Cologne. Would you like first or second class?"

"wait, how come you're able to get us a reservation now? Why would our Eurail passes cover one train and not the other?"

"I do not have to tell you."

Chase informs me that there are a certain number of Eurail reservations available for each train, and they might be out. We assumed this was the reason.

"we'll take the cheapest tickets you have. Second class is fine."

"225 euros."

What!!?? We literally pulled out all the cash we had and still came up more than 50 euros short. Chase had to overcharge his credit card to help us get home. But we were on our way back, which was nice. It wasn't until we were in Brussels on our way to the second do we realize something fishy. That French guy had sold us first class tickets! We had explicitly asked for the cheapest second class tickets. Not only that, but the train was essentially empty. I gave the conductor my Eurail pass and asked him if it would be okay if we used this to board the train. His reply, "Oh yeah, this is perfectly fine. You don't even need a reservation."

What?

Are you serious?

This French guy ripped us off over 200 euros, only to find out he was lying to us the entire time. The next day when I'm telling this story to our AIB coordinator, Kristin, when she says "That Thaley's train that went though Brussels should continue to Cologne." So not only did we purchase unnecessary tickets, unnecessary reservations, but we also change trains unnecessarily. The good thing is, Kristin is fluent in French. She called up the customer service number on the back of the tickets, but she couldn't talk to anyone for an entire week because nobody was picking up the phone. We are currently in the process of trying to get some of our money back, but the feeling of ripped off and losing all your money (literally) is not a good one.

Needless to say, I have a certain bitterness towards France. Quentin was really nice and cool. He took hours out of his day to show us the big monuments in the city. However, as he would put it...

"that's French for ya."

Until next time...