The odyssey

19 40 hours Paris Time

Feels like I've gone one full circle. After becoming habituated to having Luq in bed or at least somewhere in the house while I go off to dreamland, I'm going to have to get used to sleeping alone, for a few months at least.

An anti-climatic (and somewhat depressing) end to a hectic day. I've hopped halfway across the world, landed briefly in one country and crossed yet another border all before 12 o'clock local time. And considering that the dorm is only supposed to be an hour's journey (by bus, which was the fast way) from the airport, one would assume that I'd be able to put all my stuff down and be showered before I start feeling like a sewer rat.

Just goes to show that journalism rule No. 1 still rules (and rues) my life: never assume anything. The retrieval of my delayed luggage sparked off what felt like an odyessey way before I even saw anything that looked remotely like my dorm. Deciding between the bus and train proved a Skylla and Charydbis dilemma.

I opted for the faster, more direct bus, but looking for bus 95-18 from Roissypole was not all that easy. From the map, it looked straightforward enough. Take the bus from Terminal 2D, gate 11. Walked to Terminal 2D from 2A, and sure enough, there are buses - just not the specific one that I wanted.

A very helpful young French guy who tried to interview me for a survey, but ironically was questioned by me instead, tried to help me locate my bus, which turned out to be at a different terminal. He wasn't too sure himself, though, so I ended up trundling my bags off to the information counter. Official there didn't speak English, so I resorted to showing the map on my print-out detailing instructions on how to get to the dorm. Told to take the airport train to Terminal One. Which, of course, entailed yet another walk, since I had to travel all the way to 2F, which was, not surprisingly, at the end of the terminal. Helpful French guy was really nice though. He caught up with me and tried to make sure that I did know where I was going. In fact, he had even checked and said I could take a bus there, but I decided to trust the guy at the information counter instead. Directions were in French and English, so no problems there, although my luggage got terribly scratched from the jagged edges of the escalators.

One flight of escalators and what seemed like an interminable walk later, I arrived at the bus interchange. Found my bus, but it arrives at different times everyday! Couldn't read the guide, so stood at the waiting bay (there weren't any seats) trying to keep a look-out for the bus. Must have missed the earlier bus, as other buses kept coming and going while the one I needed refused obstinately to arrive. Started getting worried after half an hour or so, as I was apparently the only one waiting for this bus!

Other passengers happily boarded the other buses arriving at my platform, and more than a few times, I was left all alone. Noticed a road sweeper clearing the leaves nearby shooting me funny looks each time the platform cleared with me holding court in solitary splendour. After the fourth or fifth time this happened, I was really worried.

Dragged my tattered dignity and all my belongings back to the airport, telling myself that I'd throw in the towel and take the train instead, even if the journey time were longer. It was only about two-plus, so I figured I'd have plenty of time to check in at my hostel before the officials closed up shop at 18 30 hours.

Noticed the bus information office right before I entered the airport, so decided to give it one more shot. By dint of sign language and my crumpled print-out, managed to let the non-English-speaking lady at the counter what I wanted. Next bus would arrive, luckily, about 20 minutes later, at 15 00 hours. So back to the platform I went. Decided to cut straight through to the platform, instead of going the smooth, circuitous route I had taken, so had to carry all my bags up and down platforms instead of roll one around behind me.

Another long wait, and during that time, passengers for my bus trickled in. They must have, cos when the bus finally motored in, there was a crowd waiting to get on. Got a pleasant surprise when I boarded. I was ready with the seven euros which my guide had designated as the fare, but the bus driver charged me 1.60 euros, and even gave me a receipt for it!

Loved the bus ride. Saw lots of greenery, and beautiful fields of flowers. After looking at the view during the journey to Cergy Prefecture, I really wonder how American and European visitors can marvel at how green Singapore is. France is so much greener and immeasurably more tranquil! I really wouldn't mind setting down roots in this wonderfully lovely country.

Getting off at the terminus jolted me back to reality. Had to find a way to get to Cergy Le Haut from Cergy Prefecture. So back to information. The train was the best, the (once-again) non-English speaking lady told me after I whipped out my much-creased, trusty map for the umpteenth time.

Bought a train ticket, and surprise surprise, boarded the wrong train. Luckily paranoid me discovered it as soon as it reached the next stop, so got off, lugged the luggage off the train, across the platform, up the lift, across a bridge, down another lift and onto the platform on the other side. Next train was, thankfully, the right one.

The hostel was supposed to be a three-minute walk away from the train station, but in which direction? My map didn't give any details, and there weren't any other maps indicating the hostel by name. No cabs around either. Back to the information counter, but they spoke no English. A nice old lady indicated that I was at the right stop, and directed me to one end of the terminal.

Wandered around the town centre for about half an hour or so, but couldn't find anything that looked like my hostel. Mostly private apartments and construction work. Tried to ask my way around again, but only managed to find an English-speaking lady after stopping about ten others. She told me to follow the road, and turn right, as she wasn't too sure where my hostel was, but only knew its general vicinity.

By then, I was pretty much running on exhuast fumes. Hadn't slept much during the flight, still jetlagged - and there I was pushing my bags down one slope and up another along the road. Had put my laptop bag on top of my luggage, and was lugging my carry-on by hand. I'm surprised all the harsh surfaces didn't ruin my wheels, but I guess that means I should buy only Satchi luggage next time. (I'm sure there'll be other next tijmes when I'm in another weight-losing situation like this.) Still, there were more than a couple of instances when I had to carry everything myself.

That was when my luggage ripped my shoe buckle off. Right in the middle of the road. Must have been so tired that I wasn't watching where I was putting my stuff. Grabbed the buckle, stuffed it into my bag, and limped the rest of the way with a loosened boot, praying that I wouldn't twist an ankle in addition to all my other troubles.Almost every step of the way, I was cursing myself from dissuading Luq, my husband, from coming with me.

First, I've not been to the bathroom since the flight to Heathrow an eternity ago - travelling alone means no helpful companion(s) to look after luggage while one answers the call of nature. Second, my luggage was heavy!! Also cursed myself from getting that carry-on last minute, which temptingly invited me to fill it with a full-size conditioner bottle and other odds and ends (if I had found a rubbish bin along the way, you can bet that my luggage would be a few bottles lighter). Had walked quite a distance before discerning a building that looked familiar. There were no signs on it, though (from where I could see), and would have turned back but for that faint spark of hope.

On and on I went. The only entrance I found was a fire escape door. Crud. Had to go around the building... By then, had almost given up hope. Luckily ran into two teenagers, who spoke English (yes! yes!) and clarified that yes, I had almost reached my goal. They were Mexican exchange students who had arrived two hours earlier, and very thankfully allowed me to go in with them instead of backtrack to the main entrance.

Got in, collected my keys, but that was not the end of it. The hostel official was probably flustered by a long day of meeting international students. There were two other students queuing behind me by the time I was done with the whole lengthy procedure of verifying identity, purchasing residential insurance, filling in forms, etc. She vaguely gestured at a staircase after passing me my keys, and there I went. Up three flights of stairs, juggling three bags all the way. Travelled along one darkened hallway, and discovered a lift - which only brought me to the fourth floor. Well enough. One level less of lugging is still a plus. The fifth floor opened into a gym. A very empty gym filled with all manner of equipment but no humanoids. By then, I can't say I was all that surprised.

Down one flight of stairs and the lift I went again. This time, I was directed to a different wing of the building, which luckily had a lift in plain sight. It stopped at the fourth floor, though, and I had to travel through two hallways before finding a stairway that led to my floor. By then, I must have seemed like a drunken sailor, almost staggering with every step. At my door finally!!

Tossed all my bags down, reached for my laptop, but there was no internet connection. Down I went again, to be told that I can only access the internet with my student ID, which was only available at the campus two train stations away.Wanted to get on skype to start calling Luq, but my odyssey had lasted almost six hours. There was no way I could have made it to school before 17 00 hours, so had to content myself with SMS-ing. Couldn't even make a long-distance call as I got a funny French announcement when I entered his number.

Anyway, 'home' at last, minus some skin off my knuckle and a buckle off my boot, but at least I didn't get robbed, raped and left in a ditch like my mum had predicted. I guess at least one doomsayer was proved wrong today.