| Rental return nightmare |
| Annie and I rented our Peugeot 407
diesel in Calais, following 3 weeks of touring in the UK. We had arranged this
via the Hertz website, since on-line bookings offer a slightly better rate than
if handled via an 800 phone line. On-line booking also provides a simple way of
comparing rates and terms, which vary greatly between agencies. (In fact, our
entire vacation was arranged on line). However, the web sites don't go into great detail about the location of pick-up and return points. In fact, at the Hoverspeed port in Calais, there was only an empty Hertz booth. The phone in the booth connected us to another pick up point, from which they dispatched an agent with the car. Fortunately, we had arrived early enough for this to happen, since we knew that French offices close on the dot of 5pm, unlike North American agencies that seem to operate 24/7. (As well, they rarely open Saturdays and Sundays. Years ago in Paris on a Sunday, we were directed to just leave our return vehicle on the sidewalk outside their office.) 1800 kilometres later, after a week of touring, we met up with Aubrey and Judy at Aigues Mortes ("Egg More" to the locals). This was an adventure in navigation by itself. Although the town is a sizeable one, there were no indications of it on road signs until we were within 6Km and only after seeking directions from a young couple en route. "Follow the Grande Motte", we were told, and sure enough, the town finally appeared. Returning the rental car ought to have been a simple task of locating the main railway station in Montpellier - large city some 25Km away. Alas, the town seemed to be in the throes of rebuilding all of the major streets leading to the Gares (stations). I went around in a circle for about an hour until I finally was brought onto a road apparently heading out of town, but still pointing to "Gares". I was beginning to think that my French was slipping and that "Gares" was actually the name of another town!. I eventually made my way into the parking lot of the main SNCF railway station and went inside to first find les toilettes (0.50 Euro, svp) and then locate the rental return location. Nowhere to be found. Enquiries at various booths didn't help. Finally, one kind person suggested I go to Platform "A", which I did, admiring the graceful TGV train as I did. After much searching, at the very end of the platform I found a small sign indicating "locations" which led me out of the station, across a very busy road, to the rear of the main bus station. The way was marked with a wide yellow line, and I started to wonder if I might be following in Dorothy's footsteps. I discovered that the rental agencies were all located in temporary offices while the primary location at the station was being rebuilt. No indication of this anywhere in the station, no signs on the main road. I retrieved the car from the station lot, battled the heavy traffic once again and finally, returned the car to the agency. Now, I had the problem of getting to the spot on the Canal du Rhone à Sète where I had arranged to meet Veleda. Judy had provided me with a slip of paper on which she had written: "Vers Palavas-les-flots, mais arretez à la Canal du Rhone à Sète", which simply indicated I was to proceed (by whatever means) towards the town of Palavas-les-flots, but to stop at the Canal du Rhone à Sète. The dispatcher at the bus station was completely baffled by these instructions. A driver suggested I look for the #16 bus, which left from in front of the rail station. Back I go, and there had a long discussion with another driver. The result of that conversation appeared to be the classic "you can't get there from here." Of course, something may have been lost in translation. Next, I offered my tattered slip of paper to a likely-looking taxi driver and nervously enquired as to the tariff. 15 Euros (about CAD$24) seemed reasonable for a 15Km or so drive, and I gladly hopped into his air-conditioned cab. The driver thought the whole thing quite humorous and took me directly to the proposed meeting place - the junction of two canals. Veleda was nowhere in sight. I was confident we had the correct location, so I thanked the driver and he departed, still grinning. After about 45 minutes, Veleda appeared around the the bend of the canal and I chose a mooring stage where I could, with luck, hop on board. Judy brought the boat in tight and slowly enough that I could hop over the lifelines. |
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