As Donald Trump passes the nine-month point in power, a new chapter of an hour and a half on his accomplishments and plans takes place Wednesday at Radio Courtoisie.
Evelyne Joslain, assistée d’Eric, reçoit :
Patron d'émission du Libre journal du Nouveau Monde à Radio Courtoisie, Évelyne Joslain est l'auteur d'une poignée de livres sur les États-Unis et l'Occident. Parmi ceux-ci, son chef d'œuvre est paru il y a queques semaines. Voici la revue de livre de La Révolution Culturelle.
• Cliquez sur le lien pour entendre l'émission d'une heure et demie…
I usually try to avoid personal notes in this matter, but here I cannot avoid it: I don't think anybody can deny that rarely has any person spent so much time and so much money in making it to a talk show.
Having promised Evelyne Joslain weeks earlier to be present at her Radio Courtoisie talk show in Paris, I had to take two trains (actually, three) via Zürich from my parents' apartment in Switzerland. But there was only a 7-minute stopover between trains in Zürich. When the first train ran 4-5 minutes late — very un-Swiss (but the train had originated in… Milan) — I knew I was in trouble. I only got, running breathlessly, to the platform just as the TGV Lyria set into motion to leave the station.
Out of breath, I staggered over to the information booth to ask for the next TGV to the French capital, but it turned out that the one I missed by a few seconds (10-15 seconds later, I would have made it) had been the last one of the day. The next one was only the following morning, and CFF (Chemins de fer fédéraux suisses) would pay for my hotel room, but the earliest morning train would arrive in Gare de Lyon at noon on the dot, the very minute the RC show was starting. So I figured a night train to Paris was the best solution. Except that… there are no night trains to Paris. But there is a night train to Amsterdam via Brussels and a couple of German cities. So I decided to board that all-nighter and get off, after eight hours, at Cologne at 5:55 in the morning and switch to a Paris-bound TGV 50 minutes later which would arrive at 10:10. But because I had a cat with me, I was not allowed to join the usual six-berth cabin; I had to take a cabin with one single berth, in other words, buy a first class ticket. Two hours later, I climbed into the night train (which was composed of good ol' carriages from my youth in the 1980s, see photo) and took off for a night that proved uneventful.
With ten minutes' delay, we arrived in Köln at 6:05, and I looked at the signs for the platform that the TGV would be departing. The Paris departure was up there, but — in white, not with the usual green color, and with a distressing X next to it. What did I discover but that the TGV had been canceled. There was no solution now other than getting to French capital by car. Was there a car rental in the vicinity and was it open at this hour? There was, and a helpful German lady duly guided me to a Sixt office a street or two away (which had been open since 6 a.m.), where I was asked if I had a reservation, as every automobile was already rented out. I can hardly describe my feelings when I heard that, They did have a six-seater people mover, and since that was my only option, that was what I rented. Because I would not be returning the car at the place of rental (I briefly considered it), but leaving it in Paris, the price tripled instantly. However, because the woman at the desk was thrilled by Jixie Juny, my feline friend, she did some math conversions and got the price only doubled. (Don't ask, I don't want to think about the price…)
Paris was about 475-500 km away, a drive between five and six hours. Now I took off, and on the Autobahn the Mercedes Benz Vito managed a speed of 180/190 km/hour. After an hour or so (I was pretty stressed out, so I didn't really notice the times), I passed the Belgian border, where the usual drama queens have managed to lower the slow(ness) limit — I mean, the speed limit — from 130 to only 120 km/h, so here I decided to be more careful and speed along l'autoroute at 160 km/h. Several hours later, I was in France, where the speed limit is 130 km/h — unchanged from over 50 years earlier, in spite of all the technological improvements of the past half-century — so there my speedometer rose once more, to 170 km/h. I was still pretty sleepy, so I stopped at a gas station in Belgium (I — yawn — think) to buy half a dozen ice coffees for "fuel" for the rest of the trek. I thought I could make the noon deadline, but there were so many traffic jams and so many road works — especially (as usual) in Belgium — that I was rarely up at the speeds I was hoping for.
After arriving on le périphérique parisien (long) after 12 noon, I had to do what I thought was the hardest part of the journey, finding a parking space. But it was even harder, because I am not used to the length of a six-seater, and I had to try three different parking spaces before I found one in which the car did indeed fit. I then ran to Radio Courtoisie — with my cat with me — and headed straight to… the restroom, where I had been holding in since Belgium, it felt like. I joined the others in the RC show studio at 43:34.


2 comments:
Unbelievable but you made it!
Eternal thanks Erik!
Post a Comment