& it begins!

Bonjour!

My journey began Tuesday evening leaving PHL airport at 10 p.m. via British Airways to London Heathrow.  I arrived in London around 9:30 a.m. local time, (4:30 EST) with about a 2 hour layover.  Until I made my way through this gigantic airport and security again, I only had about an hour to wait.  The airport was huge, and I know I only saw about 1/4 of it, if that.  Next flight departed at 11:40 en route to Paris, CDG! I still had not been feeling much of anything until we landed, at 2 p.m. local time (8 a.m. EST)  Then it hit me of what I had to do next.  Somehow get my luggage, find the train station, buy a ticket, and find the train. 

I think I just got lucky with getting my luggage and finding the train station.  Once I found that I asked where to buy my ticket; they have an information center in the middle of it all. Bought my ticket and I was given 2 options: Get myself into the city train station and have a direct train, or leave from the airport station with 2 stops/change trains.  I left from the airport with 18 minutes until departure.  But I didn't really leave; I missed it.  I had NO idea where I was going! Everytime I asked someone they would point to where it was and I'd go there, and I swear it wasn't there.  I actually went back to the information center, asked her where to go, and she said, in a rude way, you're going to miss it, start running! but I didn't know where the heck to run to!  I went back to where I bought my ticket, and bought a new one, that didn't leave until 4:20 and had one transfer.  Plenty of time. 
I found where I needed to be and patiently waited.  I met another couple from the States who were just as confused as me, so we stuck together until departure.  We went to talk to the information center again, there is one on ground level of the train, and the woman that was working there was the one who told me to run, I'm going to miss my train.  She laughed at me when she saw me and I just laughed with her.  Oh well! Got on the train and sat next to an old French man, reminded me of Grampy, who I could tell wanted to talk to me but just couldn't.  He did help me with getting off though at the right stop, Poitiers it was.  Guess he wanted to get rid of me.  I had 9 minutes to get to the next train, which of course was on the other side.  So I had to take my luggage downstairs, then up the other side to get on.  With the help of a French girl who spoke fluent English, she told me where to go.  Got on the train with final destination, La Rochelle.  Got off no problem, and there my family was awaiting me.  A HUGE sigh of relief. 

many more posts to follow!