Well, once again we’re at the end of the trail. We spent the night at the Hilton Hotel at Munich Airport and had hoped to get downtown to see the cathedrals but it was late and downtown Munich is 40 km from the airport which meant taking the train and we just weren’t up for it. But the airport/hotel complex is beautiful and there’s lots to see and do right there so we still had a fun evening.
Overall our house exchange was a big success although certainly very different from staying in a hotel. There definitely are pros and cons. A couple of things were such a challenge every day, that eventually they became funny.
o Our exchange car was a Volvo station wagon, a nice car in the U.S. but challenging on those narrow streets and in the parking garages in France.
o Speaking of parking garages, Aix has 9 parking garages with 5,700 parking spaces and they’re pretty much the only place available to park. They seem reasonably high-tech: a sign outside says how many parking places are currently available and when you go in and have floor choices, a sign tells you how many spaces are currently available on the floor you’re considering, red and green lights tell which spaces are taken and which are available, and yellow lights identify handicapped spaces. You pay for your parking in machines located in a couple locations within or just outside the garage so when you exit you just put in your paid ticket and the arm goes up. Usually. Very seldom do I ever remember having a problem with this system in the U.S. However, here we had a problem ALMOST EVERY TIME! Sometimes when we went in, the machine didn’t dispense a ticket but the arm went up and let us in. Sometimes we got a ticket on the way in and we paid for it, but before we could put it in the machine on the way out, the arm went right up and the car behind us started honking. There are small items taped to the windshield of the car and one of them had a bar code on it so I thought maybe it was a transponder. So at one point early on I took a photo of it with my cell phone and we found the garage office and asked the woman behind the desk if it was a transponder and she said “yes.” (Hmmm…) So perhaps that explained it except it didn’t happen every time, just random times. Then we went on our mini-bus tour and the bus had a transponder and it didn’t look anything like what I had taken a photo of. And he had never heard of the word “transponder” so clearly they call them something else.
o The toll roads were a similar situation. Any time we left Aix, we had to drive on at least one toll road, two if you count taking it there and then taking it home again. They too were totally automatic, each time dispensing a ticket upon entrance to the toll road and then displaying the toll amount and collecting the fare when you exited the toll road. But in this case, when we entered the toll road, a ticket would come partially out, then reverse and go back in. The arm went up and we drove on. Must be that transponder. But on the toll roads, we also had some cases where we didn’t get a ticket on the way in, but then the arm didn’t automatically go up when we tried to go out. So Chuck would press the button and the conversation went something like:
- Her: “Bonjour.”
- Him: “Bonjour. English, please?”
- Her: “Yes sir.” (heavy French accent)
- Him: “I didn’t get a ticket.”
- Her: “Where is your ticket?”
- Him: “I didn’t get a ticket.”
- Her: “Where is your ticket, sir?”
- Him: “It didn’t give me one. The ticket went back in.”
- Her: “What happened to your ticket?”
- Him: “I didn’t get one.’
- Her: “Where is your ticket?”
- Him: “I…don’t…have…a…ticket!”
- Her: “Why don’t you have a ticket, sir?”
- Him: “I didn’t get one.”
- Her: “Where did you come from, sir? Don’t say England.” (Why does everybody think we’re from England?)
- Him: “We came from Aix-en-Provence.”
- Her: “That will be 4 Euros 15.”
- Him: “Thank you.”
- Her: “Sir? Sir? Listen to me. The next time you come through the toll booth, take a ticket.”
Sometimes we didn’t have the whole conversation. Sometimes we just said “we didn’t get a ticket,” and she would come back with an amount, “7 Euros 65.” And sometimes the arm just went up without us paying.
I just hope our exchange family doesn’t get a big bill in the mail from the transit folks.































































































































































































































































































































































