October 8, 2010 to October 21, 2010
The Photos
October 8 ~ Early-ish start gets us 40 miles down the road to Bourbon-Lancy. We are exhausted by the time we get up the hill to the city center and that exhaustion increases exponentially when we realize we have to double back to camping. Pay for three days of camping and settle in. Attempt to buy desert stuff and juice but we miss the closing time by mere minutes.
October 9, 10 & 11 ~ Little bit of internet and a sorely missed taste of home ~ chips and hot sauce. The brand is Old El Paso which I would never buy at home but it’s pretty damned good in France and then even more wonderful when we combine it with a kind of cream cheese, YUM. Gregory sends out his first official CouchSurfing requests. We do our now redundant walk into town on a Monday to find NOTHING open, I’d think we are too dumb to learn but I know it’s merely a disconnection from the days of the week. Pay for one more night of camping with road hitting plans in the morning.
October 12 ~ Set the alarm for 7:30 but tickle fight, breakfast and packing means we don’t mount up until nearly noon. Fortunately, this section of path is super easy and we get to Digoin a little after 2. Try to decide if we want to continue biking to Lyon or take a train. One map makes it look really easy and I’m stubbornly set on seeing the biking out to the very end. Partially out of guilt that Gregory bought the BoB and we have only used it for a few weeks. Gregory’s superior map reading skills inform him that there are too many of the 5% gradients that nearly killed us getting to Bourbon-Lancy. A quick trip by the train station indicates that it’s only 20 euro to get to Lyon … but we are told there’s no train today*. Heading away from the station, I recommend that we stay in a hotel tonight knowing it is easier to get going if we are warm and don’t have to pack up the tent. However, hotels near the station are exorbitantly expensive and decidedly unfriendly to Gregory. They do direct us to their sister location on the cheaper side of town. Gregory and I have some communication problems because I feel like I’m forcing the issue to stay in a hotel when he would rather camp and he’s perfectly content to hotel it because he sees the sense it makes. Either way, we end up at a hotel, take long hot showers, eat a little and then watch a movie until sleep claims us.
*Later I find out through FaceBook that train workers are on strike.
October 13 ~ Wake up plenty early but not particularly rested. It is a cold, foggy morning. Easily leave the hotel by 9 and bike to the train station. Only to find out that the trains are on a different schedule from yesterday (due to the strike) and that we can’t get a train to Lyon from here. Our only option is to bike 11+ kilometers to Paray-le-Monial. That train is at 3, giving us plenty of time, but since we are up we decide to press on.
Biking next to the foggy canal is beautiful and serene but very, very cold. We are not really prepared for cold weather (I mean give us a break we thought we were going to be in South America for goodness sakes!) Make it to P-le-M in no time. Go directly to train station. Do not pass go, do not collect $200. Only to find out we can NOT take our bikes on the train, but we can on the bus … which will be here in a little more than an hour. Scramble, rush and hurry to repackage our stuff into the most efficient use of space. We put all our personal items in one backpack (it was neat to find out it all fit after sending stuff home with my mother), the bedrolls in another, removing the panniers and packing all the bike and tent equipment in the BoB trailer. Then I strapped all five tires into one bundle while Gregory strapped the two bikes together. We finish just in time and Gregory goes to find celebratory brunch items before we get on the bus for who knows how long.OMG, you would not believe the trouble we had getting on the bus. The station attendant indicated that we should buy the ticket from the bus driver. Then by the time the bus arrived and informed us we should have bought tickets inside, the station attendant was gone. The ticket machine wouldn’t take ANY of our cards and the bus driver couldn’t take cash. To complicate matters, we still don’t speak French and the driver didn’t speak any English. The two young men at the station waiting for their own trains and busses spoke some English but not confidently enough to be of any help. Ultimately, the driver lets us load our gear and get on with the ‘understanding’ that we will buy our tickets when we get ‘somewhere.’ After we drop off the only other passenger, we change bus drivers and he never tells us where to pay for our ticket.
Riding the bus we see more and less, more variety of landscape but for less time. This variety becomes both more valuable as we enjoy the changes and less valuable as the changes happen too fast to keep track of. I have missed the rattle and squeak of a long distance public bus. Strangely neither of us feels the desire to read or sudoku or otherwise involve our minds as we seem content to enjoy the movement without the expenditure of physical work.
Arrive in Lyon and quickly check on the train situation, there’s no point in putting Ramona and Eggroll back together if we have to disassemble them tomorrow. Trains schedules are still in flux, therefore continue with reassembly of our bikes. Someone asks if we need help, we reply no and I keep working while Gregory stops to talk to him. Come to find out he know the guy and place that Gregory wanted to CouchSurf with. Our new friend is Aaron and he starts to give us directions then decides to lead us there instead. How serendipitous! We finish reassembly and repacking quickly to start the 10 minute ± bike ride to the squat known as La Friche to meet Fox.
Although Fox’ reply had been only maybe, we hadn’t had the chance to check e-mail before being dropped on his doorstep like stray kittens, he graciously found space for us and welcomed us with little hesitation. He showed us to an available caravan and we settled into the squat life. Despite the comparatively effortless day of travel we were strangely exhausted. Dine on a canned dinner and retire with movie watching.
October 14 ~ Wake up and nosh some cereal and yogurt in bed, I love lazy mornings. Make our way to Fox’ bike workshop and offer our assistance. Our first job is to sort a large pile of bikes into Trash (technically sell as scrap metal), Trash with usable parts and Good Frames. Finish the sorting tout suite and move on to removing those usable part from those trash frames. Learn how to remove pedals and pull axles amongst the more general job of simply unscrewing one part from another. Get greasy, greasy fingers despite initial gloving. Gloves are much to bulky to do some things in. Then once they are off and your fingers are greased there’s not much point in trying to re-glove. After working we follow Fox back to his house and talk to him while he prepares his meal. He ends up making enough for all of us and shares his really wonderful veggie stir fry over rice grits*. Lots more talking and Gregory washes up our few dishes before we head to bed.*Yep, rice grits. Fox’ friends mill hemp and to clean the mill of hemp oil they run plain rice through it. This cooks like grits do but of course have the rice flavor and a slightly strange color compliments of the hemp oil I guess.
October 15 ~ Slow morning but we finally make it over to the bike warehouse. We only do a little bit of sorting, pedals and axles, before we leave so Gregory can paint his face and I can get warm before our Critical Mass/Velorution ride starts at 5:30±. I go out to acquire bread and cheese for our lunch and we watch Kill Bill while Gregory paints and I pet the cat named Rustine, which means inner tube patch.
Velorution is crazy as we stop traffic and create havoc throughout Lyon. Gregory and I are biking a tandem cargo trike with trailer and are the longest thing in the parade of tall bikes, small bikes, cargo trikes and even one six person 4 wheeler that virtually defies description. We are just about the most disorganized conglomeration I have ever been a part of. We completely stop traffic to argue about which way is the best way to go. One problem arrises when an irate BMW driver tries to cause trouble. He has been weaving in and out of regular traffic and coming shockingly close to our parade until, of course, he makes contact and loses a small bit of paint. The police come but A) Gregory and I are removed from the action because we don’t speak the language and we weren’t involved directly with the event and B) the Police realize that it’s a bullshit claim by the driver trying to create drama.
Back on the road and it looks to be smooth sailing the rest of the way home until a lady tries to hedge us over and one of the bikes on our trailer gets stuck in her wheel well. We extricate, she doesn’t pitch a fit and we continue on … beyond the points of comfort and fun. Finally we return to the warehouse, park the bikes and remove ourselves to dinner nearby. We end up at a place that looks very fancy especially when compared to the ‘bombed’ out look of the squat directly across the street. We share a salad, real quenelles (not out of a can) and desert before heading home to wash Gregory’s face and rest our aching sit bones.
October 16 ~ Rainy cold morning keeps us in bed, as if we needed excuses. I’m developing a sore throat and runny nose which will not be helped by my next act of a quickly cooling shower (it started out warm enough but didn’t last). Gregory and Fox talk while he waits for me and then we try to find a warm place to read and eat some lunch. Share an interesting meal where we get to cook our own meats on a hot stone brought to the table. Tasty and Unique. Now we waste time till Indian dinner with Fox tonight. I write and Gregory reads.
*I’m feeling the pressure of needing to decide our next step. Do we hike and camp in Corsica or do we try to get to Turkey and do who knows what. We both still want to go to Damanhur and Parma, Italy but don’t see how they fit into our plans, nonexistent as they are.
October 17 ~ Didn’t exist at least as far as my daily writing went. In retrospect there was probably a concert/art installation at La Friche, which I did not enjoy and therefore didn’t stick around for.
October 18 ~ Today the members of La Friche go to court. They find out the next step in their imminent eviction from the squat. We arrive with only minutes to spare … well some of us do anyway. Florian, Fox’ CouchSurfer from Germany, and I follow Silvere to the court room. Gregory, Fox and several others are delayed either by the riots outside or the metal detectors inside. Once in the court room, it quickly becomes clear that it is beyond full and police officers are outside preventing anyone else from entering. I think it makes sense for the two non-French speakers to switch out with two French speakers who have a vested interest in the proceedings. However, I am unable to convey this correctly to those outside and Florian and I continue standing in the back of the court, fully expecting to be ejected at any point.
The proceedings start and it reminds me of my few dealings with traffic court. The lawyers and magistrates are all wearing black robes with white sashes, which is cool because, like all uniforms, it attempts to diminish any class distinctions. One magistrate is rapidly going through a HUGE pile of case files calling out the case and handing it off to one of several other magistrates at the bench. The representative for each case comes forward and discusses with the magistrate in charge of their file. Eventually the officer asks Florian and I to sit down in the now available space beside Silvere. Silvere asks if we are understanding the proceedings and we have to say no, at which point Silvere hits upon my earlier idea of exchange. We concur and Florian asks him to explain it to the officer watching the door, who agrees to exchange two CouchSurfers for Fox and Thomas … except that neither is standing outside waiting. The exchange still occurs but for people that I didn’t know. Gregory, Fox and Thomas show back up after about ten minutes and Gregory has been enjoying the chaos of strikers and riot squad outside.
After a little while the La Friche representatives come out of the courtroom and everyone gathers around to hear what the lawyer has to say. In a nutshell, they all have to come back at 5 o’clock for the actual presentation of information in the case. Fox and his surfeit of (couch)surfers leave shortly thereafter with stops to check out the menus and prices of two Indian restaurants. A plan is formulated to dine at one after the 5 o’clock return to court. Back at La Friche, Gregory and I internet and work on our next move while Fox and Florian work in the shop. Florian has fallen in love with tall bikes and is learning all the steps while at the same time making one of his own. We all quickly loose track of time and at 10 till 5, I rush out to ask Fox if he’s headed to court. The warehouse is absolutely full of people and there is no way Fox is going to make them leave to be one more voice in a sea of voices.Being on our own for dinner, we decide we still really want Indian. However, I have no idea how to get back to the places we chose with Fox. Instead we follow the directions I found online to a different restaurant. We drive right past it because it doesn’t exist anymore. Unfortunately we have to retrace our path to figure that out. We end up at a little square with shops and cafés but no Indian place. At Gregory’s insistence, it’s my plan after all, I ask for directions at a pharmacy and he directs us straight to the place we had found earlier. We thoroughly indulge in the great food and wonderful warmth. *Have I mentioned yet that our caravan is not heated … neither is most of La Friche … that I feel like I’m nearly frozen to the core … and that I thoroughly despise the cold. Well, now you know!
Arrive back home to find out the court proceedings did little more than delay the inevitable and as it stands now, they are supposed to know in about 3 weeks time exactly how long they have until they are evicted. Also of note, but not of my experience, Gregory goes dumpster diving as our host is completely Freegan!
October 19 ~ Decide to bike to the bookstore for more English books for me. As we are getting closer we notice the streets are crowded with people and police. We bike across the bridge and into even thicker crowds of people and a smoky haze in the air. A block later we stop as we realize through bleary, teary eyes the haze is tear gas because this is where the strikers started this morning. We attempt to continue but we are not strong enough to continue to an unknown destination. We hightail it out of there and head back towards home for internet and food, with a stop for groceries along the way. We intended to ask Fox’ recommendation on a place for internet but we end up at McDonald’s. Two large fries and almost all my battery power later, we potentially think we possibly might have a probable next plausible destination … maybe.
October 20 ~ Spend a little bit of the morning fully packing our backpacks to see what we are and are not taking on this next leg. Disassemble the BoB trailer, pack it with bike shoes and parts and send it to my parents house. Plan anew to venture to the bookstore and the train station to see what our options for Torino tomorrow are. After several blocks we are roadblocked by crowds and riot squad. The strikers have moved across the bridge and down the street. We stop to gawk with the rest of the crowd and follow the riot squad twice as they attempt to take back two blocks. Eventually we move beyond this impasse to find that there is additional chaos at the bridge. We aren’t sure why the bridge is completely empty but the riot squad book ends encourage us to chose a different route. Despite Gregory’s continued interest in the happenings, we move on to the bookstore hoping to arrive before they close. I buy the Complete Works of Jane Austen and I have to admit I’m dreading the read.I fear I have gotten us lost trying to find the train station but then things begin to look familiar and suddenly we are there. We are told that we need to take a bus to Chambéry where we can get the train to Torino. The bus leaves at 1:30 (YAY!) We don’t have to rush around tomorrow morning. Final Indian dinner before retiring to bed.
*Later I am very sad to have left our trusty steeds, Ramona and Eggroll behind in Lyon. I know that they will be cared for or made use of in a tall bike creation but I can’t help feeling the loss of security and freedom they allowed us.
October 21 ~ I write this (and the last few days) sitting on a nonmoving train, having just realized that the reason we were encouraged to take the bus was so we wouldn’t miss the train to Torino … but I’m getting ahead of myself. Wake up, tickle fight, eat breakfast, tickle fight, pack, tickle fight, check out of our caravan and say good-bye to Fox and Florian. The short walk to the Metro and figuring out our stops and connections is easy peasy, except they keep announcing something about our stop that I can’t understand. As Gregory peruses the map, a French girl asks if we need any help. Gregory tells her where we are heading and she assures us we are on the right track. She starts to go and I ask her what the announcements have been. Exactly what we should have puzzled out, this is the last Metro stop because the following stop is shut down due to the strike. Fortunately the strikes didn’t effect us at all … cue ominous music!
Arrive in plenty of time but can’t use the ticket machine to buy our tickets. We divide our forces, putting Gregory in the outrageously long line to buy tickets while I get in the significantly shorter but much more impatient information line. The info I get is that the train we want is leaving in 10 minutes and that if we ask the conductor we might be able to ride for free. I motion Gregory out of the ticket buying line and we haul ass up the stairs, clear our lack of ticket with the conductor and take our seats … where we now wait … and wait … and wait …
Our 12:45 train finally pulled out of the station at 2:24!
Arrive in Chambéry with enough time to grab a slight meal and play my first game of pinball before catching the train to Torino, which is PACKED! At first we thought we had lucked out with a nearly empty car, but we were quickly moved to a car that was ACTUALLY going to Torino, rather than staying in Chambéry. We find two seats across the aisle from each other, which was better than we had hoped when initially getting onto the train. My seat mate is Melissa an organic esthetician from Paris via New Orleans. She immediately recognized the American in us and we talk about our trip, her life in Paris and things to do in Torino. The main thing she recommends, and the reason for her trip today, is the Salon de Gusto, a slow food festival happening this weekend.
Gregory completely fixates on this opportunity, despite our arrangements to be at Damanhur in the morning and once we arrive in Torino we spend at least two hours trying to locate a hotel with vacancies. I’m completely detached from this process as I watch the desperation of trying to force this chance to happen. After driving us to two or three hotels with no luck, the taxi driver even offers to let us spend the night at his place. At this point Gregory turns to me for help and decision making but since I refuse to offer any advice, he decides against it. We eventually return to our original plan of train to Ivrea, spend the night in a hotel, then taxi to Damanhur in the morning.
Finding a hotel in Ivrea was’t easy and there were not that many people out and about to ask directions of. We did find a group of young people who directed us to a hotel nearby (in relation to everything else of course!) Showers! Hot Wonderful Showers (remember no heat or hot water at La Friche!) Clean hair and mostly new clothes for tomorrow.
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