The compartment had two built-in bench seats for three each, facing each other. A young Italian woman and a young Italian man were seating there already before we boarded. We made conversation with the young lady (I wish I could remember her name. I don't have any of the letters that she wrote me.) The young man did not speak English, but the young lady did. She noticed that we were such unseasoned and ignorant travelers and took pity on us. We probably appeared to her somewhat lost, bewildered, and heaven knows what.
The train pulled out of the station. We were on our way.
The country side was beautiful, but we were full of misgivings.
At dinner time, the generous young Italian lady and her young men shared some of their bread and cheese with the four of us Greenhorns. The bread tasted good!
Bless her! What would we have done without her?
Had we known that we would need food on the train, we would have swiped some bread and other foods from the ship.
She found out we were students heading for the British Isles for graduate studies - which, of course, made a big impression on her. She also found out that this was the first train ride for us in Europe and so on - with little knowledge of overseas travels.
She and I became friends. I found out that she was on her way to Turin, going home, and to get married (to that young man sitting next to her, no doubt). She wanted to learn to speaking English better and so on. We expressed our gratitude to her for saving our day.
She and I exchanged addresses. Later, we wrote to each other for a while when I was in Edinburgh, and also after I returned to HK. When I got married years later, she sent me two wedding dolls in traditional Italian costumes. Yes, I have the dolls! Right here! Now!. They are handmade of felt, with intricate embroidery and all, very colorful and exquisite.
We bid her and her young man farewell when the train stopped in Turin.
Night had fallen. We were all very tired. We fell asleep sitting upright on those unforgiven wooden seats - probably flopping on each others' shoulders.
Sometime in the middle of the night, the train stopped. We were entering France. Some French border officers came on board, checking our Papers!
Remember, I was a Citizen of the World, belonging to no country in particular? I had Permanent Residency status in Hong Kong and I was traveling with my Permanent Residency Papers. Since I was not visiting France, merely passing through, in transit only, no one thought I needed any particular papers (maybe I could sue our Hong Kong travel agent?). Joyce and the others had passports.
So here I was, in the middle of the night, being escorted off the train by two Frenchmen with guns, to a tiny little wooden structure functioning as a border office building, in the middle of nowhere. Now what!
Did I mention French Officers?
Did I mention guns?
Did I mention in the middle of the night?
Did I mention in the middle of nowhere?
Well, you can imagine how I felt - fearful, lost, helpless, with a hundred different thoughts conjuring up . . . the worst scenario, of course. I told myself to be calm and collected. Be brave. Don't let them see me tremble . . . Act normal!
Now, my brief French lessons I had in Shanghai did not prepare me to have a conversation in French to anyone, let alone a Frenchman. So I played dumb. Je ne comprends pa. With a smile and a shrug!
One of the officers went off to telephone his superior, I guess.
The other one stayed with me in that tiny office. He looked at my Papers with my picture on it, pointing at my picture and said several times, Tres Jolle. I did know what that meant! Oh no, let him find me grotesque! So I simply smiled and shrugged again.
Finally the other one came back, and he indicated to me that I had to pay some money for a Visa. Whew! They wanted money, that's all!
I paid the Fee, and they escorted me back to my compartment. It had been about half an hour or so that had gone by, and I had held up the Whole train! My apologies to my fellow travelers!
I was never so glad to see Joyce and the others. They were happy to see me, too. Unharmed!
The train pulled out. We went through France in the dark.
We finally went to sleep again.
Until this day, I do not remember seeing any of the French countryside on the rest of that train trip. I was too exhausted, and maybe I was too frightened to store what happened the rest of that trip in my brain. I only know -
We arrived in Calais.
We crossed the English Channel.
We landed on English soil.
Much of that was a blur - I only remembered how glad I was that our journey was almost over. Maybe life would be a bit less dramatic now.
Or, maybe Not?
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