Alps 2012 + 15
Day 9
I am awake and brewing up at 06:35. A hot drink to start the day and a walkabout to see how the foot is feeling, as well as to get the leg working.
I didn't get to sleep until gone 01:00hrs as Jo and I were exchanging texts and details I would require for my visit to Paris this morning. Jo was out for the evening and so I had to wait for her responses - nothing worse than when you're out for the evening with others and somebody keeps texting somebody else, so I waited patiently.
It was still raining and looked like it could be in for the day. It was only last night that I noticed for the first time just how much I had been bitten by critters throughout this adventure, and had I not spent a few nights in accommodation here and there , then that aggregate would be even higher.
Jo booked my ferry online last night which saved me paying through the nose when I turned up at Calais, plus the cost is discounted with online bookings. P&O wanted £50 for a flexi-ticket, which allows for a boarding window of up to 4hrs either way, but a bit more searching came up with DFDS at 35 Euros for a fixed time. I chose DFDS and asked Jo to book it for 18:00hrs as I had no idea how long I'd be in Paris.
The ferry company required an overall length of the bike to complete the booking with options of 'up to 2 metres' or 'up to 3 metres'. I told Jo 3 metres just to be safe ... "That's an extra 18 Euros then..." , I relplied with , "In that case it's 2 metres , and hardly likely one of there bods will be walking the ferry deck with a tape measure"!
Jo had already checked that it was ok to have the boarding pass sent to my iPhone for verification of validity.
I packed up camp and headed off for Paris after negotiating the barrier and getting back on the road.
I am awake and brewing up at 06:35. A hot drink to start the day and a walkabout to see how the foot is feeling, as well as to get the leg working.
I didn't get to sleep until gone 01:00hrs as Jo and I were exchanging texts and details I would require for my visit to Paris this morning. Jo was out for the evening and so I had to wait for her responses - nothing worse than when you're out for the evening with others and somebody keeps texting somebody else, so I waited patiently.
It was still raining and looked like it could be in for the day. It was only last night that I noticed for the first time just how much I had been bitten by critters throughout this adventure, and had I not spent a few nights in accommodation here and there , then that aggregate would be even higher.
Jo booked my ferry online last night which saved me paying through the nose when I turned up at Calais, plus the cost is discounted with online bookings. P&O wanted £50 for a flexi-ticket, which allows for a boarding window of up to 4hrs either way, but a bit more searching came up with DFDS at 35 Euros for a fixed time. I chose DFDS and asked Jo to book it for 18:00hrs as I had no idea how long I'd be in Paris.
The ferry company required an overall length of the bike to complete the booking with options of 'up to 2 metres' or 'up to 3 metres'. I told Jo 3 metres just to be safe ... "That's an extra 18 Euros then..." , I relplied with , "In that case it's 2 metres , and hardly likely one of there bods will be walking the ferry deck with a tape measure"!
Jo had already checked that it was ok to have the boarding pass sent to my iPhone for verification of validity.
I packed up camp and headed off for Paris after negotiating the barrier and getting back on the road.
I was perhaps 30kms from Paris when I left camp armed with the info that Jo provided, hours of business including lunch breaks for the British Embassy, etc. Knowing that the French take 1 1/2hrs for lunch was the reason for an early start.
It all seemed so simple in the texts - ask for form LS01, fill it in and get a passport.
I looked up the address in the Sat-Nav and set it for 'destination'. I then analysed my route in to get me to the Embassy via the shortest route - head for Notre -Dame from the N7 and follow the Nav route in right up to the to the doorstep!
I cannot emphasise enough the importance of carrying maps when travelling as their reference information is far greater and practical than a Sat-Nav system will ever be. I had looked at my 'Easy Read France 2012' map book, which devoted three full pages to Paris, aiding me no end to pinpoint 35 Rue du Fauborg St Honore, the address for the British Embassy.
The Paris 'Le Peripherique' reminded me of the M25 around London , only worse! Traffic was very heavy and I needed to be very alert for all sorts of reasons, not to mention the wet conditions.
I was now into Paris proper!
It all seemed so simple in the texts - ask for form LS01, fill it in and get a passport.
I looked up the address in the Sat-Nav and set it for 'destination'. I then analysed my route in to get me to the Embassy via the shortest route - head for Notre -Dame from the N7 and follow the Nav route in right up to the to the doorstep!
I cannot emphasise enough the importance of carrying maps when travelling as their reference information is far greater and practical than a Sat-Nav system will ever be. I had looked at my 'Easy Read France 2012' map book, which devoted three full pages to Paris, aiding me no end to pinpoint 35 Rue du Fauborg St Honore, the address for the British Embassy.
The Paris 'Le Peripherique' reminded me of the M25 around London , only worse! Traffic was very heavy and I needed to be very alert for all sorts of reasons, not to mention the wet conditions.
I was now into Paris proper!
I was surprised at how easily I found the address and the British Embassy itself on my unbranded Sat-Nav. A unit that had more than covered its low cost over the last two years in Europe.
The only problem would be that of where to park. There are so many motorcycles and scooters in Paris and all of them seem to have found a parking space on the pedestrian walkways , except me! It wasn't long before I concluded that Paris is no place for an R1200GS, certainly not whilst having a foot that wouldn't work properly! Gear changes were now a bind , a menacingly painful experience with continual stop start riding, traffic lights, junctions etc etc.
When I had located the British Embassy I decided to pull up on the right of the street about 50 metres beyond the Embassy. It wasn't the ideal place to park, though it was plenty wide enough for vehicles to pass me due to this section of road being a little wider for a short distance before the kerb abruptly angled an end to this space and back to join the street kerb. I guessed it may have been some kind of loading area , or drop off maybe. For certain I wasn't about to ride around the block again in search for another space. Two scooters were parked on the pavement but I felt the GS was a little too big to park next to them.
The only problem would be that of where to park. There are so many motorcycles and scooters in Paris and all of them seem to have found a parking space on the pedestrian walkways , except me! It wasn't long before I concluded that Paris is no place for an R1200GS, certainly not whilst having a foot that wouldn't work properly! Gear changes were now a bind , a menacingly painful experience with continual stop start riding, traffic lights, junctions etc etc.
When I had located the British Embassy I decided to pull up on the right of the street about 50 metres beyond the Embassy. It wasn't the ideal place to park, though it was plenty wide enough for vehicles to pass me due to this section of road being a little wider for a short distance before the kerb abruptly angled an end to this space and back to join the street kerb. I guessed it may have been some kind of loading area , or drop off maybe. For certain I wasn't about to ride around the block again in search for another space. Two scooters were parked on the pavement but I felt the GS was a little too big to park next to them.
I arrived at the British Embassy a little after 09:30hrs, which was just after the Embassy would open. I noticed a heavy gendarme presence all along this street as I hobbled toward the Embassy. Three gendarme were standing outside and immediately fixed their eyes upon me as I approached the door.
I told them I need to obtain a new passport as I rung the bell next to the door. One of the officers told me I needed the British Consulate, not the Embassy and to turn around , take the immediate left and walk up that street, it would be on my right. The voice over the door speaker would also confirm this.
I hobbled back and took the directions I was given. This hobbling along was becoming increasingly difficult as well as very uncomfortable. I arrived at the Consulate offices to find two more gendarme guarding the doors. A 'Bon jour..' and a press of the bell would gain my entry after telling the voice in the door speaker system I needed to obtain an emergency passport.
Inside the security block between the entrance door and the electric door a kiosk , and in this kiosk was a man I had decided was the French Hitler! He was humourless , assertive , dead pan , in fact I didn't see any facial movement in any way that could hint to another individual that any kind of emotion lived at the address behind his eyes, other than his lips moving during speech! His eyes appeared to be half open , or perhaps half closed , I wasn't certain, and his stance was such that his head would be tipped back slightly thereby forcing him to look down upon his victim.
'Adolf' wasted no time telling me that I needed to go out of the door , turn right, right, and right again to purchase my passport photos. I hobbled out in a British kind of way after being treated so abruptly but kept my thoughts to myself whilst on my way to my next location. In the passport photo shop I was seen almost immediately, asked to take a seat and to remove my glasses. I grimaced for a few seconds and then it was all over. No short cuts here - a full set of no less than 9 photographs , all identical , cut, cropped , placed into a little envelope and 9.90 Euros lighter!
I hobbled back to the Consulate offices to speak with Adolf again and he then advised me of the cost for an emergency passport. I thought he may have taken great delight in pointing out the cost to me but still he didn't smile.
"I was informed that I can apply for an emergency passport with a form LS01..." I told him, in a kind of 'so there' way, as if to suggest that with this form the passport would be free of charge!
In what seemed like an attempt to pull further rank over me he then abruptly asked me where my police documents are that state I had lost my passport. I was very happy to oblige, which in turn would gain me further access within the building.
He invited me through the electric gate only to be stopped by a second electric gate! All of my metallic belongings needed to be removed for Adolf and his assistants' viewing pleasure but my iPhone would be held whilst the rest was returned to me. At last I had access to the downstairs offices where I would meet Sophia , and English girl , very polite , professional, efficient and a pleasure to talk to. We shared a chat about my travels , how I'd come to lose my passport and other belongings and even took a little time to Google Col de la Machine after my description of the Vercours region and this place specifically, to satisfy her own curiosity.
Then came the crunch - "That will be 124 Euros please?" asked Sophia.
There was a brief silence - " Oh err , my partner made no mention of a fee and it didn't seem to be on your website either? I am afraid I don't have any funds to cover this and need to speak with Jo , only my phone is held in security"
Sophia rang Jo from the office phone and put me on the line. After a brief chat I passed Jo back to Sophia , who required proof from Jo that I had a ferry booked, and to attach the boarding pass in an email as well as her card details for the 124 Euros (£100.00) for the passport.
Thankfully Jo paid the price , though it would all be part of my expenses when I got back to England , nevertheless, Jo saved the day once again!
I mentioned to Sophia about the streets crawling with gendarme to which she told me that Paris is a very high terrorist threat with so many high profile people here, Embassies, Consulate offices etc etc.
Sophia suggested I go for a coffee, perhaps, as my passport would take about half an hour. I told her I'm probably best to move my bike as I had a vague recollection of seeing signs that informed motorists that their vehicles would be removed if inappropriately parked!
I asked her if she would know where my bike would be taken if such a thing happened whilst I was here.
She laughed and said "I have no idea , I can help you with your passport but certainly not as to where your motorbike would be taken to!"
I too laughed, as i hobbled back up the stairs , through a door , into Adolfs domain, through the electric gates , through the doorway into the street and back to where I left the bike , after saying "Au revoir" to the two gendarme who were still standing their post either side of the door entrance.
It was a relief to see the GS still where I'd left it , though I did wonder with my luck it was more likely it wouldn't! I moved the bike to somewhere more appropriate, on a pavement next to other bikes outside the Gucci store , as you would!
I told them I need to obtain a new passport as I rung the bell next to the door. One of the officers told me I needed the British Consulate, not the Embassy and to turn around , take the immediate left and walk up that street, it would be on my right. The voice over the door speaker would also confirm this.
I hobbled back and took the directions I was given. This hobbling along was becoming increasingly difficult as well as very uncomfortable. I arrived at the Consulate offices to find two more gendarme guarding the doors. A 'Bon jour..' and a press of the bell would gain my entry after telling the voice in the door speaker system I needed to obtain an emergency passport.
Inside the security block between the entrance door and the electric door a kiosk , and in this kiosk was a man I had decided was the French Hitler! He was humourless , assertive , dead pan , in fact I didn't see any facial movement in any way that could hint to another individual that any kind of emotion lived at the address behind his eyes, other than his lips moving during speech! His eyes appeared to be half open , or perhaps half closed , I wasn't certain, and his stance was such that his head would be tipped back slightly thereby forcing him to look down upon his victim.
'Adolf' wasted no time telling me that I needed to go out of the door , turn right, right, and right again to purchase my passport photos. I hobbled out in a British kind of way after being treated so abruptly but kept my thoughts to myself whilst on my way to my next location. In the passport photo shop I was seen almost immediately, asked to take a seat and to remove my glasses. I grimaced for a few seconds and then it was all over. No short cuts here - a full set of no less than 9 photographs , all identical , cut, cropped , placed into a little envelope and 9.90 Euros lighter!
I hobbled back to the Consulate offices to speak with Adolf again and he then advised me of the cost for an emergency passport. I thought he may have taken great delight in pointing out the cost to me but still he didn't smile.
"I was informed that I can apply for an emergency passport with a form LS01..." I told him, in a kind of 'so there' way, as if to suggest that with this form the passport would be free of charge!
In what seemed like an attempt to pull further rank over me he then abruptly asked me where my police documents are that state I had lost my passport. I was very happy to oblige, which in turn would gain me further access within the building.
He invited me through the electric gate only to be stopped by a second electric gate! All of my metallic belongings needed to be removed for Adolf and his assistants' viewing pleasure but my iPhone would be held whilst the rest was returned to me. At last I had access to the downstairs offices where I would meet Sophia , and English girl , very polite , professional, efficient and a pleasure to talk to. We shared a chat about my travels , how I'd come to lose my passport and other belongings and even took a little time to Google Col de la Machine after my description of the Vercours region and this place specifically, to satisfy her own curiosity.
Then came the crunch - "That will be 124 Euros please?" asked Sophia.
There was a brief silence - " Oh err , my partner made no mention of a fee and it didn't seem to be on your website either? I am afraid I don't have any funds to cover this and need to speak with Jo , only my phone is held in security"
Sophia rang Jo from the office phone and put me on the line. After a brief chat I passed Jo back to Sophia , who required proof from Jo that I had a ferry booked, and to attach the boarding pass in an email as well as her card details for the 124 Euros (£100.00) for the passport.
Thankfully Jo paid the price , though it would all be part of my expenses when I got back to England , nevertheless, Jo saved the day once again!
I mentioned to Sophia about the streets crawling with gendarme to which she told me that Paris is a very high terrorist threat with so many high profile people here, Embassies, Consulate offices etc etc.
Sophia suggested I go for a coffee, perhaps, as my passport would take about half an hour. I told her I'm probably best to move my bike as I had a vague recollection of seeing signs that informed motorists that their vehicles would be removed if inappropriately parked!
I asked her if she would know where my bike would be taken if such a thing happened whilst I was here.
She laughed and said "I have no idea , I can help you with your passport but certainly not as to where your motorbike would be taken to!"
I too laughed, as i hobbled back up the stairs , through a door , into Adolfs domain, through the electric gates , through the doorway into the street and back to where I left the bike , after saying "Au revoir" to the two gendarme who were still standing their post either side of the door entrance.
It was a relief to see the GS still where I'd left it , though I did wonder with my luck it was more likely it wouldn't! I moved the bike to somewhere more appropriate, on a pavement next to other bikes outside the Gucci store , as you would!
For a brief moment I thought I saw Clio Woman again through a shop window - she looked familiar but I couldn't quite place her face!
I left the GS and found somewhere for a coffee , which turned out to be one of the nicest coffees I can remember having , anywhere, but then it was nearly 3 Euros!
A good 45 minutes had passed and so I hobbled back to the Consulate, between the two gendarme , through the door and to Adolfs booth window. His assistant asked me to wait and in a moment he had returned with my emergency passport. I didn't get to see Sophia again!
A good 45 minutes had passed and so I hobbled back to the Consulate, between the two gendarme , through the door and to Adolfs booth window. His assistant asked me to wait and in a moment he had returned with my emergency passport. I didn't get to see Sophia again!
I would allow myself a little time to see some sights and so headed back to the GS, fired up and set off toward the Eiffel Tower.
In a very short while I found myself on the Champs Elysees along a nasty wet cobbled surface that would run the full length of this stretch of road. In the distance the archway was heavily obscured by what looked like a hazy mist. Whilst stationary at a red light the clouds suddenly burst with an almighty vengeance, against what exactly, I didn't know!
I decided in an instant , sight seeing over and peel off to the right.. In 20 feet I came to a halt behind Rent-a-Blockade, in the form of a Mercedes delivery van.
I was in no hurry so I dismounted and walked to shelter in a porch of a large store until the driver would move on. In 10 minutes Rent-a-Blockade shifted and as suddenly as the rain fell it stopped.
In a very short while I found myself on the Champs Elysees along a nasty wet cobbled surface that would run the full length of this stretch of road. In the distance the archway was heavily obscured by what looked like a hazy mist. Whilst stationary at a red light the clouds suddenly burst with an almighty vengeance, against what exactly, I didn't know!
I decided in an instant , sight seeing over and peel off to the right.. In 20 feet I came to a halt behind Rent-a-Blockade, in the form of a Mercedes delivery van.
I was in no hurry so I dismounted and walked to shelter in a porch of a large store until the driver would move on. In 10 minutes Rent-a-Blockade shifted and as suddenly as the rain fell it stopped.
Sight seeing was back on again and so I followed the van around a few sets of traffic lights until the Champs Elysees was back in my sights. This road was ridiculously busy, three lanes wide in both directions , stop start all the way to the iconic symbol itself. At a crossing just before the huge monument, Arc de Triomphe, and amidst other folk, two armed gendarme , a sub machine gun each, crossed the road. This place is deadly serious!
In the distance behind me stood the Eiffel Tower and the next POI for me to ride to. Never have I ridden in such a dangerous place as this. The Place de Ll'Etoile is where 12 roads meet and you literally put your life in the hands of everybody around you whilst doing your best to look after yourself! It is absolutely ridiculous and whatever the accident statistics are for this place they surely aren't high enough...sheer madness! Coupling all this bedlam with wet cobbled stones told me that I would probably never come to Paris again on a motorcycle , ever!
To be fair I was especially unsettled due to my foot injury and knew only too well that any emergency foot down moment would probably have ended with me dropping the GS and having my head caved in by every nutter that was driving at this particular time. This is a place where four-wheeler drivers show very little respect for motorcyclists, unlike everywhere else I had travelled throughout France during my adventure.
I guestimated a turn that I felt would put me on a path to Eiffel as the tower was now out of vision. Several turns later I was riding more cobbled streets , still wet but now downhill on the approach to Eiffel.
I arrived at the tower, pulled over for a couple of pictures but upon remounting the GS to say my last farewells to Paris I just could not pick the bike back up again once astride.
To be fair I was especially unsettled due to my foot injury and knew only too well that any emergency foot down moment would probably have ended with me dropping the GS and having my head caved in by every nutter that was driving at this particular time. This is a place where four-wheeler drivers show very little respect for motorcyclists, unlike everywhere else I had travelled throughout France during my adventure.
I guestimated a turn that I felt would put me on a path to Eiffel as the tower was now out of vision. Several turns later I was riding more cobbled streets , still wet but now downhill on the approach to Eiffel.
I arrived at the tower, pulled over for a couple of pictures but upon remounting the GS to say my last farewells to Paris I just could not pick the bike back up again once astride.
The road camber was too steep and the GS leant too far over for me. I dismounted and pushed the GS several paces to try again, this time successfully.
I'm out of here!
I'm out of here!