Our Singapore Air arrival at Charles de Gaulle airport in Paris was to a cold and foggy morning (it was even colder than when I left Melbourne). But the progress through customs and baggage was relatively quick (especially after I realised that the baggage carousel at which I was waiting was only for the Upper Deck passengers on our flight -  my bag had been happily circulating on the adjacent carousel for some time). The main feature at CDG was the increased security presence, with several armed security groups circulating in the airport, given the generally heightened levels of security in Paris over the past 12 months and the uncertainty associated with the forthcoming Euro2016 soccer tournament in France. But the travelling public seemed to be largely unconcerned, and just took the security forces for granted.

After collecting my bag, It was down in the lift to Level 2 to get the Airport Shuttle from Terminal 1 to Terminal 2.

Then down the escalators to the Gare (railway station) from where the TGV will depart. I make the same mistake as I did last year, when I stopped to look at the departures board and started to panic when I can’t find my TGV to Bordeaux. Then I realised that it is the airline departures board (should have paid more attention to the symbols at the bottom of the board), and I needed to go down another level to get to the Gare.

After waiting until 20 minutes before the scheduled departure time, I then went and checked the train departures board to see what platform the TGV will depart from. I then went to that platform and checked the train configuration display to see where my carriage will stop along the platform. I then boarded that carriage (last year I got on the wrong carriage, and couldn’t understand why someone was sitting in “my reserved seat” - this year I am more careful). The trip to Bordeaux was about 4 hours and uneventful. But this is where the fun started. I had to change to another TGV to go on to Agen. But when I looked at the departures board, I couldn’t see my train. Given my problems with departure boards, I looked around for another, but they were all the same. So I plucked up my courage and went to talk to the service counter (where you’re never sure if the service rep will speak English or not). After a pleasant bonjour from me, we managed to find enough common words in English and French and sign language for me to find out that the 1537h TGV to Agen was cancelled due to strike action, but I could take the 1648h TER local train to Agen on the same ticket. So I sat around (on my suitcase) for a couple of hours reading on my iPad until the appointed time. This also meant that I would miss my connection to Moissac, but after I messaged Rita about what was happening, she got on the SNCF website and found all the connection possibilities for after I got to Agen. Luckily there was a direct TER service to Moissac that was due to depart about 10 minutes after I got to Agen. So I settled back and enjoyed the scenery as the train raced along beside the Garonne River.

I remembered from last year where the TER train to Moissac had departed from, but when I arrived at Agen there was no train at that platform. Nor was there any TER train to Moissac on the departures board. Another trip to the service counter (to someone who spoke very little English) had me learning that that train had also been cancelled and the next service to Moissac was on a bus in two hours time departing from a bus station somewhere in the vicinity of the station (the instructions in French were not all that clear to me). I was a bit wary about this, so I conferred with the list sent to me by Rita and found that another option was an Intercity train to Montauban (after passing non-stop through Moissac), then a TER train coming back to Moissac. So when I saw that the train to Montauban was indeed on the departures board, I decided that a bird in the hand was worth two in the bush, and I jumped on the Intercity train, despite the signs saying that it was strictly a reservations only train. Interestingly, while there had been numerous ticket inspectors on the TGV, the TER and now the Intercity train, none of them attempted to check any tickets. Possibly this was another part of the strike action.

So after a quick non-stop trip to Montauban, I alighted to, you guessed it, strike three! The return TER train to Moissac (the last of the day) had also been cancelled. But this is where the beauty of the barging community came to the fore. Rita had also given me the phone number of Don and Laura Bestor, barging friends over several years, who were moored in nearby Castelsarassin. So I called them, explained my situation, and they kindly agreed to come and fetch me and deliver me to Moissac. True friends indeed. So after 42 hours in transit, following an all-nighter to finish the renovations at Taggerty, I was now “home” at la Maison de la Rose. It didn’t take me too long to hit the sack.