That’s “bedding”, the noun, not the verb.
For most of yesterday morning (Saturday), Diana and I had pretty much planned on flying to Madrid. Then, over lunch, we weirdly decided to jump on a train through the Tannel (thank you) and down from Paris to Bordeaux.
My first time in a non-English-speaking country. It’s a bit claustrophobic, a bit stressful, especially when you’ve got only the vaguest instructions of which line to take on the Paris Metro to get to the other train station where the line to Bordeaux kicks off. Still, somehow we muddled through.
There was a full-on genuine street crazy on the Metro link. There are a few street crazies in Auckland, but they tend to just mutter a bit here and there. This guy gets on at one stop with a fucking fire extinguisher, sets it down and starts lecturing loudly in French, punctuating his rant with complicated gestures. At the next stop, he picks up his fire extinguisher and disembarks. Okay, we think. No more crazy. But no, he was just putting the fire extinguisher down on the floor of the subway outside the train, and hopped right back on to continue his lecture.
There’s street crazy, and then there’s French street crazy. Rue crazy.
Navigating the public transport in Bordeaux at 10.30pm to get to the hotel I’d booked was a whole other mission. Took a tram to a place to catch a bus that gives no indication of where it is, etc. Managed with the help of a Korean couple.
Well, I say tram. When I hear “tram”, I think of antiques crunching their way around Christchurch. Christchurch, by the way, has more people living in it than Bordeaux. Bordeaux’s not big, but apparently the mayor here woke up one morning and said, “Fuck it. We’re going to make Bordeaux fucking b’dass.” Here’s Lonely Planet on it:
The mayor, ex-Prime Minister Alain Juppé, roused Bordeaux, pedestrianising its boulevards, restoring its neoclassical architecture, and implementing a high-tech public-transport system. His efforts paid off: in mid-2007 half of the entire city was Unesco-listed, making it the largest urban World Heritage Site.
“Hey, where’s the World Heritage Site around here?” Mogo doesn’t socialise.
So, smaller in population than Christchurch, and when I hear “tram” I think “antique”, basically. So getting on a goddam space elevator was a bit of a surprise. I was told before coming to Europe that I’d want to spit on Auckland’s public transport-system when I returned, but that’s not quite accurate. I’m no longer entirely convinced that Auckland even has a public-transport system.
space elevators trams cover most of the city, and they’re 1.40 Euro no matter how far you go. And they go fast. And they’re clean and they’re frequent.
Anyway, that’s where we are now. Gonna grab some breakfast, find a backpackers to stay at, and look into this “Bordeaux wine tour” thingee.
Keep it foolish.