I hate to repeat myself, but again, just like at the last few borders, crossing over into France could hardly have been less dramatic. If it wasn’t for GPS I’d have totally missed the fact that I’d just made it over another border. This time there were no signs, no pillars, and no change in road surfacing. Just green fields ahead and green fields behind me, with a muddy path snaking through them. It really was the dissolution of internal borders at its finest (to be fair, I was just a few kilometres away from the town of Schengen itself).
A bit further on, the path led to into a small village consisting of a few houses, barns and a makeshift roundabout. Once I’d reached the village, any remaining doubts of whether I’d made it to France or not faded away. The houses and lampposts alone looked more French already, and the village’s main street was Rue Jeanne d’Arc. That’s about as French as it gets.
The day’s route led me onwards to Thionville, my first major French city. I cycled through the centre and had a quick look around, but couldn’t really afford to stop for anything more than a few photos time-wise. It was a bit of a pity really, because it seemed like a nice place.
An hour or two later I’d made it to Metz. There was nothing much worth stopping for in between, and in terms of views this was definitely turning out to be the least scenic day so far. The terrain was flat and made for easy cycling for the most part, but the surrounding landscape was gloomy and rather industrial. The weather wasn’t the best either, with a constant drizzle the whole way occasionally turning heavy.
I eventually arrived in Nancy as the sun was setting and headed straight to Louise, my CS host’s, place. We sat down for a delicious cooked meal, together working our way through an entire chicken and dish of potatoes (I probably played a disproportionate role, to be fair). Just a while later the sofa bed was open and laid, and I was ready to call it a night. The day may not have been anything to write home about, but it’d been a long one.
The next morning started with my usual city pit-stop routine. Do some laundry, buy a local SIM card, and catch up on emails and website admin. This time I had one addition to the list – swap out the old panniers, now literally hanging by a thread, for new ones. There was one problem, though. The new panniers hadn’t made it to Louise’s place yet. I had ordered them in Luxembourg and paid for two-day express shipping to Nancy. The store had held up their end of the deal and sent them out right away, but the two days had passed and panniers were nowhere to be seen. All we had instead was a note from UPS saying that there was a problem with the delivery. So the unplanned adventure begins…
Hate is a strong word, but when it comes to ‘express’ courier services I use it. TNT, UPS, DHL, FedEx…the whole lot. I’ve lost track of the number of times in the last few months alone that I’ve had to go on wild goose chases around cities just to pick up parcels. Panniers couldn’t exactly fit in the letterbox – granted. But then again why couldn’t it be as simple as it would be with the regular mail service, where the postman leaves a note and you then stop by the post office round the corner the next day? Maastricht, Eindhoven, Los Angeles, and now Nancy…different corners of the world, yet the same story every time. If you happen to be home at the exact moment when the delivery van comes by, all well and good. But if you miss it, well, best of luck. Your options generally consist of trying again the next day (i.e. spending a whole day at home waiting for the delivery which may come at any time) or going to the courier’s warehouse located in some middle-of-nowhere hellhole and picking the package up in person. The first is generally not an option at all, especially when travelling. So that only leaves the second, really.
What complicated things slightly this time was that the package was addressed to Louise, so she had to be there herself to pick it up. The great host that she is, she was totally fine with it and up for the adventure, and so the two of us and another friend, Alexia, set off for UPS in Fleville-devant-Nancy. Two bus rides and a bit of a walk later we’d made it to an industrial estate, and after a bit of looking around, there was UPS!
And there was the package, too. New set of panniers – check.
– – –
I ended up staying over in Nancy for a few more days than I’d originally planned to. Besides the whole pannier adventure, I needed some time to finish off what I’d started in Luxembourg and get a few more things sorted. Besides, I’d been lucky enough to find amazing hosts who didn’t mind having me around for a while longer, and I’d been promised that there was a great Couchsurfing party planned for the coming weekend.
Meanwhile, Louise was hosting some other Couchsurfers so I moved over to Alexia’s. I wasn’t the most interesting guest, as my days consisted mostly of sitting down in front of my laptop typing away and trying to figure out why my WordPress theme wasn’t doing what I needed it to. But they put up with me anyway, and we still found the time for some sightseeing, wannabe skateboarding, bragoli-making and selfie-taking.
And of course time for partying, too. When the night arrived, the couchsurfing meetup was as great as promised. It was right on the other side of Nancy, and involved getting on my bike and chasing a tram to get there (my host’s instructions were to follow the tram till I see her), but it was well worth it.
Even with the extra days and all, I’d just been in Nancy for a few days really. And yet when the time came to leave, it felt like I’d been there for weeks. I’d arrived as a Couchsurfer, and four days later knew I was leaving behind a whole new group of friends. Nancy, t’étais vachement ouf. A la prochaine!
