Today we said goodbye to our little home away from home in Paris (as well as our 14,353,207 friends from Galleries Lafayette), and took the TGV (Train à Grande Vitesse) to Switzerland. The TGV (if you don't know) is one of those bullet trains that gives passengers the rare opportunity to become Yuri Gargarin for a day and have their eyeballs sucked into the back of their hippocampus. By the time we pulled out of Gare de Lyon, I was able to watch my brain compile a stupid expression before transmitting it to my face when spoken to in French. And to no one's surprise, there were so many passengers jammed into the cramped rows, it was more like a tour of The Great Wall of Patchouli-Scented Backpacks. Things looked grim...real grim until we reached our seats. But I'll let Max tell you how much room we had.
"Freakin' huge!"That's right, Max, freakin' huge.
8 seats, 4 on each side. And after the first stop, the other family of four got off, leaving us our own private cabin for Roxy to run around in.
Finally, a bit of luck.
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