To Montpellier: Summoning our militant optimism

October 1, 2023

This morning we share a van ride to Ljubljana airport with Terry, Mary Fran and Mel and say our farewells. Terry and Mary Fran are going on to another adventure in Turkey involving a yacht and a hot air balloon. It's been so nice to spend this much time with them and all our tour friends, in so many magical places.

At check-in the KLM agent offers to check our pannier-backpacks at no charge. They just barely fit within the carry-on size limits, and it's a struggle to wrestle them into the overhead bins. We hand them over, glad to be free of the load.

Our connection time in Amsterdam is short at one hour. It was the only option to get from Ljubljana to Montpellier France on a Sunday. KLM offered it so they must know what they're doing, right?

The flight to Amsterdam takes off 20 minutes late. A little while later a flight attendant comes over to tell us it will be tight to make the connection, but possible if we hurry.

We study the airport map showing our arrival and departure gates on adjacent concourses. It looks like a good hike. At least there's no passport control here in the Schengen zone to hold us up, and we don't have to lug the panniers around.

In Amsterdam ...

At the gate there's no way to hurry the process of getting off the plane. You just gotta wait while everyone gathers up their stuff and shuffles along.

Finally free of the crowd in the jetway, we break into a run and make it to the gate for our flight to Montpellier with time to spare. Yesss. There's the workout for the day.

I'm suppressing some anxiety about our checked pannier-backpacks, containing all the stuff we carefully planned for seven weeks on the bike. Barry reminds me that everything got where it needed to go on our three flights from St. Louis to Prague two weeks ago. In fact, the Tile trackers in our bike cases showed the baggage transfers moving faster than we did. Seems like it should be easier to move things than people.

No point in thinking about it now. While Barry reads, I get back to the journal and the second leg of the trip goes by quickly.

On to Montpellier...

In baggage claim we stand around as passengers claim their belongings and the room slowly empties out. A few bags circulate on the belt that goes into a mysterious room on one side and out the other. It doesn't look good.

As we start to look around for help, a man comes over and asks if we are Mr. and Mrs. Branham? He informs us quite definitively that our bags are still in Amsterdam. I'm amazed that he knew about the problem so fast and that he came out to find us. He tells us the bags will be on the same flight from Amsterdam to Montpellier tomorrow.

In the baggage service room we make arrangements to have the panniers delivered to our place in Sete tomorrow, since we're only staying one night in Montpellier. We'll have to ride to Sete with what we got.

Another agent shows me how to apply for reimbursement - up to 100 Euros - for toiletries and other things we might need due to the baggage delay. All this polite, efficient service inspires confidence.

Moving on, let's have a look at Montpellier

As we walk out of the airport, the shuttle bus to the city center is at the stop 50 yards away. The schedule says it departs at 3 pm, and it's 3 pm now so we do the second sprint of the day and catch it.

It's the same story when we get off the bus at Gare Saint Roch. The tram that goes to the Place de la Comedie near our hotel is already queued up across the street, so we hurry to get on that one too.

Lots of running today. Our transit navigation lessons from Budapest definitely helped us figure out which way to go.

My legs are feeling the unusual demands placed on them today. It's too bad our bags couldn't run with us.

Things could be worse. The cases with our bikes are waiting for us at the Royal Hotel, complete with the tools to assemble them, and helmets.

Unfortunately our handlebar bags with helpful things like the Wahoo gps navigators, phone mounta and some tools are back in Amsterdam in the panniers. We can make do for a day. We have the clothes on our backs, sturdy walking/biking shoes and our daypacks.

The Hotel Royale near the Place de la Comedie looks like a fine place to stay. They have complimentary cake and coffee in the tea room from 4 to 6, a nice touch. Our room is a little small but adequate for putting the bikes together.

Behind reception, a comfy room where there will be cake soon!

Barry starts tearing into the well-sealed bike boxes. Too bad his pocketknife is inside one of them.

While Barry sets to work I wander out in search of toothpaste, shampoo and a bike bottle to replace one we lost back in Budapest. The Place de la Comedie distracts me from my search. Let's have a look around.

The city's website describes the Place as "surrounded by bourgeois buildings built in the 19th century by the wine-growing bourgeoisie." There's no mention of actual architectural styles but I recognize elements of the Baroque and Art Nouveau. Further enlightenment is welcome.

The Fountain of the Three Graces, installed in 1776

Better get back to my errands. The Monoprix down the block is well-stocked for sundries but I don't see any water bottles. There's one bike shop a kilometer away still open on a Sunday so I stroll over. Besides bikes, they have tools, helmets, bags, bottle cages, and no bottles.

Back in the room, Barry has everything together except my rear rack, which is missing a couple of screws.

The bike shop I just visited is open until 6:30 so we head back and the mechanic gives us three screws that are the right size, no charge.

On the way to the bike shop we pass some boys taking turns on a bike with a water bottle pressed up against the tire to make motor vibrations

It's been a long day and my dinner bell is clanging so we walk back towards the Place de la Comedie to hunt for food. At a cafe on the Place we tuck into some fish and chips. Our server encourages my attempts at resurrecting my rusty French. It's good to hear the language again, like music.

On the way back to the hotel we hit the Monoprix one more time for a disposable water bottle and right away Barry spots a reusable one with a red rooster that says France Rugby.

The hotel really is very nice. The bed is queen-size with no split down the middle like the king-size models we've had for the last two weeks, and the sheets are dreamy. We turn in with high hopes that we'll be reunited with our belongings tomorrow.

Rate this entry's writing	Heart	12
Comment on this entry	Comment	2

Scott AndersonWhat a nerve-wracking day! You two must be completely fried. Good luck on your ride to Sete. It will add interest tackling it without your Wahoos.
Reply to this comment
7 months ago

Janice BranhamThanks Scott. Navigating with the phone in my pocket was an inexact process, lots of missed turns.
Reply to this comment
7 months ago