Marseille

I'm typing this post so that I can actually look back on what I wrote rather than having to watch myself and listen to my own voice.

Marseille...I am not sure where to begin, because every time I begin telling people here about my trip, the beginning always leaves them confused. I change the way I start every time, and we'll see if this beginning is the one.

Ok, Friday afternoon, Liz, Walsh, Maria and I go to Gare de L'Est to make our reservations for a train to Interlaken (if you haven't heard of it, it's OK because no one else has either) for Saturday morning. We went up to the ticket counter, and the agent was the friendliest man around, but he told us he couldn't find tickets for us tomrrow using our Eurail passes. Fail.
So within 2 minutes of him telling us the bad news, we decided to go the Marseille. It seemed like the best idea ever considering how gloomy and rainy Paris was. Plus, Marseille is only 3 hours away, compared to the 5 hour trip to Nice or Montpiler.

D'accord.
So Liz Walsh and I bought our tickets (we only paid a 6 euro reservation fee) and we all set to party all night, not sleep and just hop on our 7h15 train in the morning...because it's what we did the weekend before and it seemed like the most badass plan EVER but for the second weekend in a row, so badass DOUBLED.
Obviously, staying up all night is not the best idea no matter what, but when you have a train in the morning it become the best worst idea you've ever had.

I'll fast forward through Friday night, but it ended with me being the most intoxicated that I've ever been in Paris thanks to the poro and whiskey. Come 2am, I was ready to go to another bar with Walsh, but the guy I was with refused to go. SO rather than stay up all night, the three of us ended up crashing from about 3 to 6h45, when I awoke to Walsh banging on my door.
I had completely forgottem about our train. I hadn't even set an alarm for the morning. I hadn't packed...but the worst part may have been that I had forgotten to tell the guy who had crashed in my room that I had a train to catch in the morning...so I get out of bed, wake him up, try to explain to him in French that I'm leaving for Marseille in 45 minutes...I hit a low point in LIFE.
Needless to say, Walsh and I missed our train, and Liz ended up not wanting to go. The two of us ended up en route to Marseille by 11. We got there, checked into our hotel, explored the city, went out for drinks, slept, got lunch, and got on our train to Paris at 1h30. It was about 24 hours in Marseille.
I really didn't like the city, but I can't complain about the sun. The best part of the trip was the train ride down and back. I love traveling by train. It's such an adventure, and it's so easy to just hop on and go.

On the train ride back, I sat next to a young woman reading Teen Vogue in English, so I assumed she was American. Later, when I heard her speak English, I asked her "Are you American?" and with a perfect accent she responded" "No, I'm French". He name was Sophie, and Walsh and I talked to her for almost the entire trip. She had grown up in Paris, lived in Belgium and London, went to RISD, moved to NYC for work and is now back in Paris. She loves America and hates Paris, which we talked about forever. When we arrived in Paris, she invited Walsh and I to dinner at her apartment. It was seriously too cool of her and we had such a great time. I'm hoping to see her again this week.
So meeting Sophie was the best part of my weekend!
Oh, and also coming home and having 3 video posts on my wall from frans. The best.

Bisous,

Erica