les Davey de France

Alan and Pat live and work in Bordeaux. Alan is a pastor and Pat was a nurse. Now we work with UFM worldwide. Read on! (If you'd like to know what took us to Bordeaux, then start with the archives from September 2004)

Tuesday, March 25, 2014

Oh, the joys!

"Leave the house at 18:22", said Moovit, the clever little gizmo in my mobile phone that plans journeys by public transport in Bordeaux. "Walk to stop Macédo and bus 23 will come at 18:27. Then change at Fontaines d'Arlac for tram A and you'll get to the church prayer meeting just in time for 19:30."

It all seemed so easy. Too easy. Macédo is the nearest stop to our house and the timing was perfect.
So I wasn't THAT surprised to find myself waiting at the bus stop at 18:35... 18:40...

I was scared to go home because I knew that if I turned to go home the bus would arrive. But there is a limit.
"Right. You have till 18:47. Once you're 20 minutes late I'm off home."
The bus must have read my mind. It arrived on the stroke of 18:47.

Strangely, though the bus was 20 minutes late, and the timing in Moovit was so precise, I arrived at the church only 5 minutes late, which in Bordeaux means 10 minutes early.

Result! I'm the king of Bordeaux public transport! A charmed man!

I left the prayer meeting at 21:06 because Moovit said if I caught the 21:08 tram I'd be home at about 22:15.

What Moovit DIDN'T say was that there were no trams at the stop outside the church because of engineering works. "No trams here. Replacement bus every 30 minutes."
I managed to find out that there were trams at Galin, the next stop, so I started hoofing it down the road.
Ah - there's a tram, its lights flashing - it's just waiting at the points and soon will start to move off - Oh, it's moving.
There was a little herd of us traipsing down the road. When the tram started to move we all started to run like startled antelope of the Serengeti.
I'd had pins and needles all night from sitting awkwardly and my leg was reluctant to move, but a finely striped individual held the door open for me while I limped and shuffled up and off we went.

Strangely, though the walk must have taken some time and I can't imagine the tram was the one I intended to get, I still ended up on the correct number 4 bus and got home just after 10.

 I am, indeed, the king of Bordeaux public transport, and my life truly is charmed.

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