Arrival in Arles
After arriving in Paris, we sort of dimly wandered through the De Gaulle airport terminal 2, through passport control, and were suddenly somehow in the terminal 1 that had the train station in the basement (I have no clue how we got there, with no sign of customs or anything similar, although I DID get my passport stamped).
I spent a lot of time in Chicago figuring out how to order train tickets in advance (because of the holidays, we figured tickets might be hard to get). I started with the SNCF, the French national rail service, which was very confusing and difficult to use. Thanks to the great users of TripAdvisor, I was directed instead to Capitaine Train, which was much easier and user-friendly. I booked tickets on the TGV (French: Train à Grande Vitesse, "high-speed train") from Paris to Avignon, then via regional bus (operated by the train, so same ticket) to Arles. We arrived in Paris around 10:30, the very fast train left DeGaulle at 2:00 (and yes, Parisians take their dogs everywhere), we arrived in Avignon around 6:00, scouted the parking lot looking for the Arles bus, and finally found it sitting with its lights off and the driver listening to the radio. When we confirmed that it was indeed going to Arles, we hopped aboard this huge bus (with one other passenger) and arrived at the Arles train station around 7.
At that point, fatigue had set in, so we opted to take a taxi to our rental house at 5 rue Emile Barrèrre. Even our nice taxi driver couldn't find the street--a very small narrow street in the oldest part of the historical center, near the arena. We went around the arena a few times before the driver saw the sign for our street; he didn't even try to drive down it!
Tom
walking down rue Emile Barrere
5
rue Emile Barrèrre
After settling in, picking our bedrooms, and getting the keys, we decided we had better buy a few groceries and do something about dinner before we collapsed. So we walked back down the street, down the grand little staircase (at right) with grotto and goldfish, through the park next to the Roman theater, onto Blvd. Clemenceau, the main street of Arles (at right). At night, the trees were lit with pale blue lights for the holidays; during the day, you can see how busy the street is.
I usually try to "do my homework" before going on a trip, so I had a printout of all the small local grocery stores and their hours (including Spar, our first stop, along with Utile, Champion, and Carrefours). Loading up on frozen pizza, fresh salad ingredients, sausages, fruit, bread, and very good wine (Cote du Rhone) and beer, we stumbled back to the apartment, ate chorizo pizza, and went to sleep.
