Summary

The blog post narrates a journey from Switzerland to Spain by train, with an unexpected stopover in Montpellier due to missed connections.

Abstract

The journey began in Vevey with the intent to reach Barcelona in a day, a theoretically possible feat dependent on train punctuality. The author, along with Stacey and later joined by Lorelle, planned to stop in Lausanne to visit the Musée d’Arts Brut, leading to a comical struggle to secure extra Swiss francs for a luggage locker. The highlight of the trip was the visit to the Collection d’Arts Brut, which profoundly moved the author, showcasing artworks created by individuals in mental institutions and prisons. The group's tightly scheduled itinerary fell apart in Lyon, as the train to Avignon was delayed, resulting in a missed connection and an unplanned night in Montpellier, where they discovered a charming hotel and a lively Christmas market. They finally arrived in Barcelona, but not without trials such as a broken escalator and confusion over the train station.

Opinions

The author held high expectations for the possibility of traversing France in a single day by train, conditional on precise timing and punctuality.
The museum visit was deemed worth the dramatic events leading up to it; the author expressed that the art was not only impressive but also superior to many classical and modern artworks.
The author expressed a strong appreciation for the artists featured at the Musée d’Arts Brut, considering their life stories and the quality of their work, which was found to be better than much of the modern art and on par with classical art.
The experience of kindness from a stranger was cherished, seen as karma repaying the author's past generosity.
The author found Montpellier to be an unexpected delight, especially enjoying their stay at The Royal Hotel and the local Christmas markets.
Despite the exhaustion and unexpected obstacles, the author expressed a sense of adventure and resilience in overcoming the travel challenges they faced.
The author was left with mixed feelings about their arrival in Barcelona, marred by physical pain from handling luggage and disorientation due to different train stations, but relieved to finally reach their destination.

Hopping Across France

Vevey to Barcelona — can we make it in a day?

Switzerland to Spain in a day. Theoretically, with trains running on time, it’s possible.

The plan was to hop, well, not literally, right across France and land in Barcelona Franca Station. But first, Stacey and I decided to stop off in Lausanne to visit the Musée d’Arts Brut, the collection of paintings done by psychiatric patients, eccentrics and incarcerated criminals. We were supposed to get back to Geneva to catch the 2.41 pm train to Barcelona. However, that train was fully booked so Lorelle managed to work out an alternate route using regional trains so we had to be back by 1.28 pm! So it was going to be tough!

Step 1: Get off train with luggage in Lausanne. No problems there.

Step 2: Find luggage lockers. Yep, easy — right in front of us.

Step 3: Pay for lockers. Oh, oh — large lockers were 9 Swiss francs and I only had six! Stacey had spent every last razoo of her money on the hospital and medications for her back yesterday. And we had limited time to see the art so we started to beg, yes beg. Well, Stacey did — I just looked sad. She asked a couple of girls who said no, sorry. She was even willing to give away her pain de raisin in exchange for 3 Swiss francs!

They walked away and we thought we are just not going to be able to get to see the art after all our efforts when one of the girls came running back with 5 Swiss francs! Our plight had been successful. We were jubilant. I couldn’t thank the girl enough, in French of course. I even said, “Je t’aime!” to show my gratitude. She probably thought I was a complete nutter. Oh, and I forgot to mention, Stacey was wearing the neck brace the doctor had given her yesterday and was easy to pity. My generosity in giving all my spare change to beggars over the past few weeks had been repaid. That’s what I call karma.

Collection (or Musée ) d’Arts Brut, Lausanne

After depositing most of our luggage in the locker, (my backpack wouldn’t fit so we put it in the trolley bag Stacey had bought for her backpack as she can’t carry it on her back) we headed off in the direction of the Museum. I was wearing Keeley’s boots for the very first time so was hoping it wasn’t a long walk. Stacey rechecked the map she had and realized the Musée was not even on the map— there was only an arrow pointing to its location so we jumped on a bus heading that way, ascertained from a fellow passenger that we were, indeed, heading in the right direction, and were deposited right in front of the Collection d’Arts Brut! It happened to be the first Saturday of the month when entry to see the artworks is free! Very fortunate as we were penniless — actually we had 2 Swiss francs but that wouldn’t have been enough to get us both in.

Le Château de Beaulieu houses La Collection D’Arts Brut in Lausanne. Image from www.artbrut.ch/

Well, was all this drama getting there worth it? Definitely! I was expecting to see crazy art done by crazy people, but a lot of it was better than the classical artists and much better than most modern art! There were small collections of each artist with the story of their lives in French and English — most led very sad, lonely lives — many suffering the death of one or both parents in childhood — and were institutionalized and classified as insane. Maybe it was the institutionalization that sparked their creative flair, but if they were alive today, they’d be walking the streets like you and me.

There were many forms of art on display. Not only paintings but creations in shells, wood, stone, anything that was available to them. One artist improvised brushes made with her own hair! Oh, and many of them were female! Absolutely the best art gallery I have ever visited!

We rushed back to the bus stop and caught the next bus back to the station, and caught the train to Geneva to meet up with the others. Stacey decided to go home to Nantes to recuperate (and to see her own physiotherapist) so we parted ways at Lyon, us heading to Avignon and Stacey directly to Nantes.

Geneva to Lyon to Avignon to Montpellier

Lorelle had worked out a route with connecting trains in Avignon and Montpellier to get us to Barcelona that night. However, it was not to be as the train from Lyon to Avignon was 10 minutes late leaving and only managed to get later. By the time we arrived in Avignon, we had 8 minutes to catch the train to Montpellier which sounds easy except the bloody train to Montpellier left from a different station 4 kilometres away. We grabbed a cab and would have made it but for the fact we got 2 very long red lights! The train had just departed.

An unscheduled night in Montpellier

We had no choice but to wait for the next train to Montpellier, which of course, arrived too late to catch the connecting train to Barcelona so we had to find somewhere to spend the night apart from the platform of the station! Kiryn headed out to check out the three hotels whose signs we could see from the station and settled on the third one, The Royal Hotel, which had a room for 3 for €120, and a very pretty little room it was too. Decorated with blue walls with white trimmings, a separate bedroom area as well as lounge/dining and bathroom with BATH, it was all we needed for a good night’s sleep. Thank goodness for my credit card as we hadn’t budgeted for this.

Royal Hotel, Montpellier Photo courtesy of www.tripadvisor.com.au

Kiryn and I headed out to locate food as we hadn’t eaten since breakfast in Vevey and were all a bit peckish. We found the most popular takeaway joint in town and I ordered a chicken roll and chips. What a huge meal! I had managed to buy a lovely bottle of red for 18 euro from a restaurant on the town square, which was buzzing with Christmas markets — a beautiful little town all fairy-lit for Christmas!

We decided we’d get up early to catch the 7.27 am train directly to Barcelona, the earliest train we’ve caught yet. Luckily we were only 5 minute walk from the station. It was so early there was nothing open from which to grab a bite to eat so we hopped on the train hungry.

Barcelona at last

We arrived in Barcelona just after midday and hopped on the Metro to Liceu, completely exhausted. I’d hurt my hip, probably from humping my suitcase down that broken escalator in Montpellier station last night, and I just wanted to lay down on the floor, but the receptionist had other ideas. I couldn’t remember how much the rooms were, even though I had checked last night, and asked could I come down later and pay. Apparently, this was not the done thing at the Hotel Adagio.

The hotel was only a stone’s throw from Barcelona Franca, which was the station we had planned to arrive at, but actually came into Barcelona Sants. These towns with two major train stations can be quite confusing, especially when one’s train plans change.