The time I basically ‘hitch-hiked’ in France. I say ‘hitch-hiked’ like this, because really, it wasn’t like I was standing by the side of the road with my thumb out and sign saying ‘Paris-or-bust’. I would never get into a strangers vehicle and I probably won’t ever again (I promise, mom!).
But these were desperate times and they called for a little creativity.
On one of my last days in my month in Paris, I was determined to visit Monet’s Gardens in Giverny/Vernon, France (a small town about 30 minutes out of the city). It was a quiet Sunday and I thought it would be a great way to spend the afternoon. A travel-friend of mine was in town for the day, and was quite keen to see it.
The adventure started with buying a ticket for the town, and then promptly missing it, only to find out they only went every two-hours. Yes. The beautiful, nearly-perfect rail network in Europe has trains that don’t run every hour on the hour, or more!
Once we finally got onto the train, I realized that it only went to the town centre, not actually out to the Monet Gardens. Thankfully (or so I assumed…), there was a bus service to deliver those wanting to visit, to the proper area.
One of the best things about rail travel in Europe is the interaction you get to have with locals, and of course, other tourists! During my picnic lunch on the way out to the town, we struck up a conversation with a friendly local beside me and we chatted off and on for the duration. She was actually getting off the train at my stop and while we de-trained close to each other, we figured that we would not likely see her again.
Once out of the train station, we were looking over the bus stop, and realized that on Sundays, the bus didn’t run. At all. Ever. With a solid 5 kilometre walk to the gardens, and no public transport, and a return train to Paris in just a few short hours, I was tearfully realizing that this whole venture had been a bust.
All of a sudden, we saw the friendly local. She noticed us, looking decidedly sad at the bus timetable, and came over to try and help. Once we had determined that the bus really didn’t go on Sundays, she offered us a ride to the gardens, as her mother was coming to pick her up.
(Though this is really not hitch-hiking, I often refer to this as the first official time I hitch-hiked!)
Get to the gardens, take a picture with my new French friends with a promise to stay in touch, and a million thank-yous later, we make it to the gardens with about 20 minutes to spare before closing time.
Fast-forward a short hour later. We realize, then, when the gardens were emptying out and people were returning to their cars and their beautiful warm houses (it had started to rain…), that we had no way of getting back to the train-station. Additionally, somehow my friend and I had gotten separated, and had no way to contact each other.
I frantically scanned the crowd, looking for someone friendly-looking that might possibly be headed to the parking lot. Alternatively, I was scanning local hotels, looking for one that wouldn’t break my 15$ a day French budget. I figured the best way to get someone to offer a ride would be to feign confusion. I asked a passing couple where the bus stop was. They directed me to it, but commented that the bus didn’t run on Sundays.
As my face fell, the woman reached out a comforting hand, and asked where I needed to go. She offered to drive me to the train station, as they were going to the town anyway. She asked if I was ready to leave. Regretfully, as I was worried that they would leave and I would have to either a) be a complete awful person and abandon my friend or b) get a hotel room and hope that somehow, we would connect.
I replied that I was almost ready, but that I had lost my travel companion and had to find her. Thankfully, the woman laughed and told me that it happened all the time, it was hard to stay together once the gardens closed for the evenings. Together we scanned the crowd and somehow, within 10-minutes, we’d managed to connect.
And thus, my first hitch-hiking experience was complete. We spent the drive back to town chatting (read: practicing) my French with a local, laughing over our days (mis)adventures, and relishing in the fact that, oh my goodness, I just hitch-hiked! And survived! 🙂
[…] Living in Paris for a month on a strict budget meant sometimes, I traveled cheaply. Like making a new friend on a train and then accepting a ride from her and her mom. (Read about this, my first hitch hiking attempt here). […]