Algeria and the 24 hour train rides

Algeria won their futbol match the other day. We knew as soon as it happened. How, might you ask? Let us explain...

There is no way to get to Italy from Spain unless we make several stops on the train throughout France. These stops, however, do NOT conveniently arrive and depart within minutes of each other, which would have been so nice for our sake. But, we needed to get to Italy anyway, so when the Eurail info lady offered a trip with 5 different trains and one of the layovers being 5 hours long in the middle of the night, we decided to go for it. This trip is about adventure and experience. It is not about comfort and looking cute while we do it.

The first of our 5 train rides ended up having these two Amercian guys taking most of our same route so we were all in it together. Amy and I were extra thankful because they 1) spoke English and French and 2) they were guys. So, after two trains we get to Marselle, France, where we have our layover from 12pm to 5am. We go upstairs in the not-so-bad train station and settle down... buckling our bags to our bodies just in case someone comes to steal when we are sleeping and get ready for a short night sleep on hardwood floors in our clothes. Plus there is a huge security guard walking around the station with a pitbull. About 10 minutes later, however, another security guard comes up to us and tells us the station is closing and we have to get out. So outside it is. Sleep isn't an option anymore.

The outside of the train station is dirty and cold and smelly. There is only the ground to sit and the sketchy drive-bys to observe. We were not the only ones taking up residence on the side of the street, though. Seven others had the same idea (or plan-gone-wrong). So we all huddled in our own corner of the wall and sit. We try to read and shift our bodies 1000 directions trying to get comfortable on the smelly cement with with a hard backpack to lean on and the wind blowing. Then, just as position number 906 is feeling bearable and our eyes start to close, we were informed, very loudly, about Algeria's futbol victory. The honking and yelling and dancing and flag waving lasted about an hour. At least it kept our minds off our soar butts and goose-bumped, tired bodies for a while. But the normalcy of the uncomfortable night came back (well, not so normal for 2 SoCal white girls) and we counted down the minutes. No one was in the mood to talk or play games or do anything but sulk in our own misery- so we just sat. For 5 hours. In Marselle.

Finally our train left 5am and we out. Slightly reclining, un-padded train chairs never provided such rest and relief.