Day 1

Monday 28th Jan: This was a day of stressful travel. I left my flat, possibly for the last time ever, at about 04.20 – A taxi was already waiting downstairs and I assumed that this was the taxi I had already booked – I even asked the chap if he was booked for me (and he said yes). But when another taxi turned up – for me – then I realised I had narrowly avoided being kidnapped by some foreign power. In the end, I had a very nice taxi journey. The driver, a lady, had a 21 year son still at home who specialised in “streaming” – which means he played a lot of computer games.

My next challenge was my large suitcase ! Heather had assured me the previous day that the 23kg allowance was a lot. However, my 33kg suitcase was not accepted by the stern check-in lady. So at 5am I bought an £80 new suitcase and I repacked. Fortunately, the stern lady was also quite funny and didn’t charge me excess baggage.

And so I bounced from Edinburgh to Brussels and then to Toulouse (Brussels Air is an okay airline) and I met up with my suitcases once again.

This is when I realised that the French are not big fans of putting up useful signs. There were no signs to help you decide whether a tram or a bus would get me to Toulouse train station (it’s the bus), there is no sign directing you from the bus park at Toulouse station to the main building and there is absolutely NO SIGN telling you where platform 5 is !!

So I bought I bought a train ticket for Toulouse to Carcassonne. The seemingly nice French lady behind the counter said the journey would be TWO hours and there was only 5€ difference between first and second class. So I bought a first class ticket – mostly because I had those two massive suitcases (and thank you to the person who invented wheels for them). And then, with a dangerous smile she said I had SIX MINUTES to catch the train and then she asked for my address, email, phone number. And then I ran – dragging those massive suitcases.

I panicked round a little auditorium with NO SIGNS for about a minute and finally had to ask soldiers, with the biggest guns, where to go. I then ran downstairs, along a long tunnel and then dragged myself and those cases up steep and endless steps to meet the train pulling in to the station. No guards to ask if this was my train. And the step up to the train was so high I had to ask a very old man to help me on.

And then when the ticket man came along and found me slumped in the corridor, he said my seat in first class was at the other (far) end of the train and that the journey was only 45 minutes. I then vowed never to return to Toulouse – ever.

I’m almost finished, but I should just say that once at Carcassonne and before embarking on a long bus journey, I used the facilities at the station (50€). It was a full automated service, and I still don’t understand why the electric toilet seat decided to lower as I was using it ! Oh, and also when the train pulled into Carcassonne about a dozen people got off just to smoke.

The final part of the journey – the bus from Carcassonne to Quillan was the easiest and most pleasant part of the whole day. I was met in Quillan by Louise who I am renting from and she ably took control of one of my suitcases.