Templars Revenge--Chapter 5

Chapter 5

5:55 A.M. March 3

         Owen finished packing his suitcase and checked out of the Hotel Madison.  Train travel was new to Owen; to be safe he left the hotel just after 6 A.M. and hailed a cab.  The ride to the train station was less than 15 minutes.  He had read on the web that the station, Gare Montparnasse was very large.  Once inside he pulled out his iPhone from the right pocket of his blue pinstriped jacket.  It wasn’t that he didn’t trust the cabbie, but he followed the progress they were making on the phone’s GPS.  Although he had only been in France for a couple of weeks, Owen had grown accustomed to Parisian breakfasts, and was hoping to have a few minutes to grab a croissant and espresso.  He had already purchased an e-ticket and had planned on going the paperless route by having the ticket agent scan his iPhone.
         Gare Montparnasse was a combination of old and new, steel and glass, with countless TV monitors streaming the latest information on arrivals and departures.  The station was originally opened in 1840; it had been expanded and remodeled many times since.  Much of the current station came from the remodel in 1969 when the glass enclosure was added.  The station has 28 rail lines that arrive and leave on different levels.  Although he looked online first, for once he was happy that he asked Ricardo, the manager of the hotel where to go.  Since Owen wasn’t going far out of Paris, his train was leaving from the Ile-de-France train level on the street, also known as Niveau 2.  His train wasn’t departing for nearly an hour, giving him plenty of time to get his croissant.  He used his iPhone’s GPS to navigate through the station, looking up occasionally at signs for validation.  Owen had also used the Google Earth 3D Building app to see what the terminal was like on the inside.  He found the app to be a first-rate representation of the major buildings and cathedrals he had visited thus far.
         Following signs pointing to the platforms, he saw a small pastry shop right next to a newsstand overflowing with magazines and papers in French, English, and other languages.  Behind the counter were the butter croissants that he had become fond of.  He patiently stood in line as a businessman in a wool overcoat, and then an older woman and others ordered their coffee and pastries.  Owen ordered two croissants and, “Un grand café.”  At this point, Owen was getting comfortable with French but by no means was he fluent.  However, he had the Euro to dollar conversion down, and quickly pulled out a 20 Euro bill and was expecting 14 Euros in return.
         His appointment was at 10:30 A.M. thus he was taking the 7:18 train to Chartres.  Since the trip was only 74 minutes, he would have plenty of time to get into town and situated before meeting up with the bishop. This early in the morning, there were few people in the station, although more and more were now strolling into one of the busiest train stations in France.  Owen was a bit excited for his first true train ride and was hoping he would be on one of the TGV trains that clip along at 170 or more miles per hour.  Unfortunately, this departure wasn’t served by TGVs so he would have to wait to another time to experience high speed rail travel.           Rolling his suitcase behind him, his backpack over his left shoulder, and coffee in hand, Owen made it to Platform 22, but was surprised to see that the train wasn’t there.  As the main form of travel within Europe and the additional security measures that had been put into place in recent years, Owen had assumed that rail travel in Europe would be much like air travel in the United States, where you had to be on board 20 to 30 minutes before departure.  He checked his iPhone to ensure he was at the right platform and then looked up at a monitor. This was the spot; however, neither the train nor passengers were there yet.
         Owen sat down on an old wooden bench that was in desperate need of painting.  A twenty something woman in a black pea coat and a bright red cashmere scarf wandered over.
         Still a little concerned that he may be in the wrong place, Owen said the French phrase he was most familiar with, “Excusez-moi, Est-ce que vous parlez anglais?”
         “Yes, I speak English, do you need some help?” she answered pleasantly with a strong accent.
         “I just wanted to make sure that this is the right platform for the 2610 train, I’m a little surprised it isn’t here.”
         “We’re early, this is the right place.  The train never gets here until 7 A.M. but won’t leave late.”
         “Thanks, I’ve never really taken a train outside of a subway before,” Owen went on.
         The woman nodded her head politely and sat down at the end of the bench.  She opened up her purse and pulled out a small tablet and began reading.  The train arrived just after 7 A.M. as she said, “See, it’s right on time.”
         By this point, there were over a hundred people with coffees, newspapers, briefcases, and backpacks standing around all waiting for the train.  Several moments later the doors opened, and a dozen or so passengers walked off the grey rail car in front of them.  Owen and the rest slowly walked up the steps of the car and sat down.
         The rail car was half empty with a host of others filing on behind him.  At the first open row, he sat his backpack in the window seat and placed his suitcase into the overhead bin.  Out of habit, Owen immediately pulled out his iPhone to check his email.  Since it was the middle of the night back home, there were few and none that needed immediate attention.  He opened up the brown paper bag, pulled out a croissant with his left hand, and took a bite as he sent off an email with his right hand.  The train pulled out at exactly 7:18, one croissant was gone, and he had replied to all of his emails.  As the train left the station and rambled through the Paris neighborhoods, and into the countryside, Owen focused on the scenic little towns as it buzzed by.  The ride wasn’t long, but it allowed him time to relax, unwind, and to investigate the Chartres Cathedral and area online.
THANKS FOR READING--STORY CONTINUES ON WITH CHAPTER 6 AND 7