Couchette Monsieur?
Trip Start
Sep 19, 2010
1
2
5
Trip End
Oct 04, 2010
Paris, Île-de-France, France
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Kerry too, is particularly fond of this mode of travel, as through bitter experience she has found that a night long journey in a seat simply won’t afford her the level of comfort necessary to achieve slumber. If forced into this position the result is a tortuous night and wasted next day. (Reference entry no.118 of Jez & Kez's 2 year adventure blog).
So you can imagine Kerry’s consternation when, after another hard day’s sightseeing on the streets of Paris, the couple swung their bags to the ground in front of the ticket machine, Jez extracted the booking reference from his sheaf of papers, tapped it in, and as the freshly printed ticket came into focus she read not 'COUCHETTE’ but ‘RECLINING SEAT’.
Barely managing to stifle the rising violence and push back the redness from her field of view she gazed evenly at her husband and calmly decreed, "Jez", “Fix it”.
But on Jez’s polite enquiry the woman in the office merely confirmed that yes indeed, we had 2 reclining seat tickets and any change would have to be negotiated on the train.
Very quickly Mrs Poyser came to near boiling point, glaring at Jez as he slurped deeply on his can, desperately seeking solace from the potentially violent female, in the soft, forgiving arms of Kronenbourg 1664.
The estranged couple humped their heavy backpacks down a seemingly endless procession of sleeper carriages where hordes of happy go lucky passengers merrily loaded their luggage, fluffed feather filled pillows and settled down for a relaxing night in air conditioned luxury.
At length they reached the end of the train where their carriage awaited. Predictably the seats resembled stalls in the back of a cattle truck and, despite Jez’s desperate assurances, reclined to a pitiful 55 degrees which barely kept the head from rocking forward on the shoulders when futile attempts at sleep were attempted. But at least they weren’t alone in this misery. The carriage was pretty much full to bursting with other mopes lacking either the financial clout to avoid it, or technical expertise to navigate a website correctly and book the correct tickets.
As she considered the prospect of the night ahead Kerry’s mood began to ratchet up from bemused to murderous rage and as Jez emerged from his protective shawl of Kronenbourg fug he realised that the situation was untenable. In short, the axe was about to fall, so the time to act was nigh.
As the burly conductor came walking down the aisle he knew that decisive action must be taken so ever so politely asked if an upgrade to couchette was possible. The official beckoned him to the office in the next carriage and he began to riffle through pages with a grid of seat numbers and ticks, running up and down the pages with his pen and muttering to himself. After a few moments of pondering he looked up and said there was a spare compartment and there would be no charge!!!!
Jez paused, fearful that the conductor was about to close the door, drop his trousers and demand oral pleasure. But the only thing that was passed over was a stiff farewell and the compartment number, so Jez walked solemnly back to Kerry who was shifting uneasily in her seat looking depressed, and advised her that there was no possibility of a change so she should try to get some rest.
By the time Jez and Kerry had settled in their 1st class, 4 berth compartment, of which they were the only occupants, love was back in the air and they fell into a peaceful, untroubled sleep. Dreaming only of the tasty delights awaiting them in Spain.
