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You’d think that making your way to Paris from the UK would be a relatively simple affair right? A nice easy journey that the holiday making Brits have been undertaking for decades without issue.
Even so, when I decided to start writing about my travel stumbles an irrational voice in my head thought:
“What if the universe jinxes all my trips from now on so I have something to write about?”
Crazy right?
And yet….
My first trip after launching Stumbling Across The World is a four night break to Paris. Nice and easy, not too far, and just for a long weekend. Should be relaxing and stress free.
But here I am, on a train trying to control a massive anxiety attack.
Why?
Two words: Southern Railway.
Making my way to Paris
Train Trauma
I decide to get the train to Gatwick airport in an attempt to save money on parking and petrol, and because I want to sit back and just chill out on the journey.
My flight is due to depart at 4:45pm from London Gatwick so in theory there is plenty of time to make my way to the airport.
I’d booked my train tickets in advance (something I always recommend you do: check out cheap advance fares on Trainline) and collect my tickets at the station.
I know exactly what train to catch and am using the Southern Railway App to keep an eye on running information just in case. All looks fine, and I leave with plenty of time to collect my tickets.
The live running times are looking good at 13:35 as I walk to catch my 14:00 train. All is going well, or so I thought.
At 13:50 my train is cancelled, the subsequent two trains are cancelled, and I have to jump on a train to Brighton hoping there would be a way to divert later on.
Frantically searching for options online, I find a potential train to change onto. Thankfully that train arrives at its scheduled time.
I am now running an hour late, and will have 35 minutes to get through airport security and to the gate. In theory this is completely doable but I hate rushing!
My anxiety is threatening to spin out of control and I am making all sorts of extreme worst case scenario plans!
(I’ve already looked up later flights and costs, and thought about booking into the Premier Inn at Gatwick or just going and finding the nearest spa!)
Crisis Averted
Of course none of this was needed as I get to the airport, through security, collect my euros, and board the plane with five minutes to spare!
Generally I would recommend train travel despite the current frequent delays. Public transport is more environmentally kind, and I like being able to sit back and relax with my book.
If you book in advance through The Trainline you can get some great deals. And should your train be delayed or cancelled, the network operator will honour your tickets on later trains. The Trainline also participates in the network operator’s delay repay schemes.
Catching the train means you can sit back and relax without fear of traffic. However, there is always the risk of delays (especially in the UK!). So if you want to use the train, then consider leaving much earlier than necessary to make sure you don’t miss your flight.
Also, be sure you have time to resort to a Plan B (taxi, getting a lift, etc) should the train network let you down entirely.
(I did not do this, hence the anxiety attack!)
How to make our way to Paris?
The next challenge is getting to the hotel from Charles de Garde airport.
As the plan is to spend two days on Disneyland and one in Paris, I booked a hotel in Torcy. About 25 minutes to Disneyland and an hour into Paris.
Google Maps would have you believe to get to Torcy it’s either a train or taxi and that’s it. Neither option particularly cost effective. So I did some digging online a couple of weeks ago and stumbled upon a bus.
Any information on this bus was tucked away on the web, hidden from all but the most determined researcher. But find it I did, tucked away here! And since the fare was only €2 compared to the €28 for a two trains or €45 for a taxi I was determined to use it!
Next challenge, finding where to catch the elusive bus from.
It takes a good half an hour wandering the airport until we find the bus station. It is not signposted, and unless you know specifically what bus you’re looking for then the station layout won’t help you much either!
You have to take the free airport shuttle to Terminal 3, and then go outside to find the bus station. Tickets have to be purchased on the bus and if you can find the timetable you’re a better person than I. Luckily the bus was at the station so finding it there was easy at least.
Torcy is the last stop on the route, and Google Maps led me the rest of the way to the hotel.
Mission accomplished!
Related Posts
Motel Woes
Sadly the stumbles don’t end there.
The “hotel” is not pleasant, even taking into account the cheap nature of the place. I’ve stayed in hostels that were cleaner and comfier.
After just one night I book into a hotel in Paris City centre for Sunday night, desperate to minimise the time in the dingy motel. I threw my budget out the window, and found a great deal on Hotel Tonight for the magic themed Hotel Splendor.
Get £20 off your first booking with Hotel Tonight by using my exclusive Promo Code: JLITTLER1
The three nights spent in the motel are sleepless, causing my anxiety and depression to overwhelm me completely.
Sleep is the primary self care action I need to be able to do all the other little things that keep my mental health balanced. Without sleep I’m on a slippery slope of paranoia, worry, and confusion.
Choosing to forgo money concerns and pay for a nice hotel for that final night is worth every penny.
I had a brilliant 24 hours in Paris, and would highly recommend exploring the city as part of a Disneyland Paris vacation.
Stumbling Home
The train is of course delayed on way home too.
After significant delays, it eventually terminates two stops before my home station.
This delay I just take in my stride though.
With no flight to catch, and knowing I can call for help if needed, I am calm and collected.
I end up spending the journey helping other passengers figure out their onward travel.
I chat to a Spanish lady trying to get to Bournemouth, and a retired widow just trying to get home to Swanick.
It’s moments like this that make me remember why I love travelling. Everyone has stories, and people together in shared circumstance can always connect.
And nothing brings people together more than a shared stumbling story.
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