During our trip, we have gotten rail passes for all of our journey. We only rented a car for the weekend in the Ribble Valley (and despite occasionally drifting to the wrong side of the road when there wasn't any traffic to follow, we survived!).
We have ridden trains in England, the subway in London, the rural electric trains and subway in Paris. We have gone from high luxury--the chunnel train serves food like an international flight--to dirty, hot and crowded subways (we wondered when the pushers were going to come and force even more people into the car).
Not having a direct line to the tourism commission, I can only tell you that the rail system in Paris is not very inviting (whether intentional or not, I don't know). In addition to our own language difficulties, there were several situations that made us feel less than welcome. When we went to the wrong platform and were trying to decide what we needed to do, the very full station at a high traffic time of day had an empty information booth. When we got on the trains, we were surprised that no one was announcing any of the stops.
Then there was the problem with the exiting of the station that if one didn't know better (translation me), you could walk with a crowd through the handicapped gate and not get your ticket validated. This left me unable to get back on the train until I spent thirty minutes standing in a line.
Being a stranger in a strange land has new meaning to me now. Every other trip I have been on internationally, I have had some people with me who knew the language and were there to guide me. Although we are greatly enjoying Paris, there is a sense of displacement and uncertainty that comes with doing anything new even activities that are quite routine.
I couldn't help but think how the church must seem to people who are visiting and have never been to a church before. Do we do enough to communicate with them what the stops are, help them to find there way and make them feel at home? Or like the trains in Paris do we just expect them to know what to do and when they don't leave them feeling unwanted?
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Reminds me of a very late night in Paris when Mother, Unkie, Ada, Grace, Jan, Lillian, and I were trying to find which bus we should take to get back to our hotel. It seemed even the bus drivers didn't know (or care) where they were going! Enjoying your blog!
ReplyDeleteMary