Our train finally arrived, headed towards Pontorson. All was going well. Until. I had my phone plugged in charging, went to the bathroom, came back, and it was gone. Someone had stolen it. It was a sad day. So when we arrived at Pontorson, I called my parents from a pay phone to let them know what had happened in case they tried to get a hold of me. Then began the search for camp site number two. Upon our arrival at this utopia, Leah i
ncredulously asked me if this was heaven. This campground had a pool, hot tub, sauna, game room, hot indoor showers, a playground, free blankets, and numerous other amenities. Among them, was TOILET PAPER! Three cheers for t.p.! We were so giddy when we saw it, because at our last camping site we hadn’t had any so every time we went to a public bathroom we collected. We installed ourselves in our lovely little spot, and then decided to have a nice game of pool. Although I look like I know what I’m doing, we really had no idea how to play and it was an entertaining game. Two little English boys were making fun of us, so we started talking in French to each other to ignore them. Afterwards, we got something to drink and sat by the lovely pool to enjoy the rest of the warm evening. We also swung on some swings and tried to get pictures of us swinging, which is a lot more difficult than it sounds to get a decent picture while swinging. There were a couple of good ones, but after a while we gave up on decent and ended up with ridiculous. 
The next morning we had our croissants and apples and sadly packed our tent for the last time. We left our backpacks at the front desk and rented two bikes to make the trek to Mont St. Michel, the cathedra
l on an island. It was a lovely ride, 9 km through woods next to a river. All was well until Leah unexpectedly fell. No problem, she brushed herself off and I put her chain back on her tire and we were off again. On the way, we passed a family of bunnies, a flock of sheep, and other wildlife. We reached Mont. St. Michel after about an hour, locked our bikes in the parking lot, and saw the abbey. It was immense and impressive and very pretty. 
We got a free tour for being under 25, had some granola bars and apples we bought at the grocery store (we ate a lot of apples that weekend) and went back to grab our bikes. When we arrived at the bikes, we discovered not only the two locks we had placed on our bikes, but also a mysterious third lock which was attaching our two bikes together. Obviously we did not have a key for this third lock and were mystified as to who would place it there and for what bizarre reason. Thus the question then arose of what in the world we could do. We had planned on leaving Mont St. Michel at 12:00, to give ourselves an hour to ride back, to arrive at the camp at 1:00 to grab our bags and walk to the station to catch our return train at 1:40. We desperately began asking anyone who walked by if they had something sharp with which to cut the lock, to no avail. We then tried to pick the lock with a bobby pin and a nail file, all in vain. Finally, feeling a little bit silly but not knowing what else to do, I called the police
from a pay phone and explained to them in rather rushed and choppy French what had happened. They listened patiently and then told me the police were on lunch break, try the tourist office. Oh la la. So we ran to the tourist office but that was a lost cause. I went back to picking the lock while Leah ran around like a chicken with its head cut off. She finally found our rescuer, a tourist bus driver who came with his tool kit in all its glory. He whipped out his hammer and smashed that lock to pieces. We were so happy we could have cried, but at this point, it was 12:55, so we gathered the fragments of the lock for a souvenir and dashed off in the direction of camp. We rode so fast on this tiny tiny trail, sometimes smaller than the width of our bike tires. It was so bumpy and I was going so fast I had to keep my hand over the basket that held my bag and our locks to prevent them from flying out. We arrived at the camp in record time, in about 25 min
utes with sweat pouring down our backs. Dropped the bikes off, grabbed our backpacks, and literally half sprinted half sped walked to the train station. We got there within a minute of its departure and collapsed on our seats, feeling like we’d been run over by a train.
After catching our breath, we pulled out the last of our bread and our can of SuperLinks we had brought and made hotdog sandwiches, which never tasted so good. We made it from Pontorson to Caen, and then transferred b
efore continuing on to Paris. The train from Caen to Paris was ridiculously overcrowded, and we had no seats. Thus, for the duration of the two and a half hour ride, we were on the floor in between two cars, which we were actually grateful for considering by the time we got to Paris it had gotten so crowded there wasn’t even standing room anywhere. We curled up in our little corner and pulled out our gra
mmar books, since we both had tests the next day. In Paris, we got on our final train for the supposed three and a half hour trip that turned into four hours. This time I actually had two seats to myself, so I got nice and comfortable and slept a little, studied a lot, and listened to my iPOD till it died. We finally made it back to Geneva around 11:00 where we caught the tram to the bus stop. We were sooo tired and silly at this point. We managed to catch the last bus of the night back to the border and m
ade it to campus by 12:30 to collapse in our beds.
ncredulously asked me if this was heaven. This campground had a pool, hot tub, sauna, game room, hot indoor showers, a playground, free blankets, and numerous other amenities. Among them, was TOILET PAPER! Three cheers for t.p.! We were so giddy when we saw it, because at our last camping site we hadn’t had any so every time we went to a public bathroom we collected. We installed ourselves in our lovely little spot, and then decided to have a nice game of pool. Although I look like I know what I’m doing, we really had no idea how to play and it was an entertaining game. Two little English boys were making fun of us, so we started talking in French to each other to ignore them. Afterwards, we got something to drink and sat by the lovely pool to enjoy the rest of the warm evening. We also swung on some swings and tried to get pictures of us swinging, which is a lot more difficult than it sounds to get a decent picture while swinging. There were a couple of good ones, but after a while we gave up on decent and ended up with ridiculous. 
The next morning we had our croissants and apples and sadly packed our tent for the last time. We left our backpacks at the front desk and rented two bikes to make the trek to Mont St. Michel, the cathedra
l on an island. It was a lovely ride, 9 km through woods next to a river. All was well until Leah unexpectedly fell. No problem, she brushed herself off and I put her chain back on her tire and we were off again. On the way, we passed a family of bunnies, a flock of sheep, and other wildlife. We reached Mont. St. Michel after about an hour, locked our bikes in the parking lot, and saw the abbey. It was immense and impressive and very pretty. 
We got a free tour for being under 25, had some granola bars and apples we bought at the grocery store (we ate a lot of apples that weekend) and went back to grab our bikes. When we arrived at the bikes, we discovered not only the two locks we had placed on our bikes, but also a mysterious third lock which was attaching our two bikes together. Obviously we did not have a key for this third lock and were mystified as to who would place it there and for what bizarre reason. Thus the question then arose of what in the world we could do. We had planned on leaving Mont St. Michel at 12:00, to give ourselves an hour to ride back, to arrive at the camp at 1:00 to grab our bags and walk to the station to catch our return train at 1:40. We desperately began asking anyone who walked by if they had something sharp with which to cut the lock, to no avail. We then tried to pick the lock with a bobby pin and a nail file, all in vain. Finally, feeling a little bit silly but not knowing what else to do, I called the police
from a pay phone and explained to them in rather rushed and choppy French what had happened. They listened patiently and then told me the police were on lunch break, try the tourist office. Oh la la. So we ran to the tourist office but that was a lost cause. I went back to picking the lock while Leah ran around like a chicken with its head cut off. She finally found our rescuer, a tourist bus driver who came with his tool kit in all its glory. He whipped out his hammer and smashed that lock to pieces. We were so happy we could have cried, but at this point, it was 12:55, so we gathered the fragments of the lock for a souvenir and dashed off in the direction of camp. We rode so fast on this tiny tiny trail, sometimes smaller than the width of our bike tires. It was so bumpy and I was going so fast I had to keep my hand over the basket that held my bag and our locks to prevent them from flying out. We arrived at the camp in record time, in about 25 min
utes with sweat pouring down our backs. Dropped the bikes off, grabbed our backpacks, and literally half sprinted half sped walked to the train station. We got there within a minute of its departure and collapsed on our seats, feeling like we’d been run over by a train.After catching our breath, we pulled out the last of our bread and our can of SuperLinks we had brought and made hotdog sandwiches, which never tasted so good. We made it from Pontorson to Caen, and then transferred b
efore continuing on to Paris. The train from Caen to Paris was ridiculously overcrowded, and we had no seats. Thus, for the duration of the two and a half hour ride, we were on the floor in between two cars, which we were actually grateful for considering by the time we got to Paris it had gotten so crowded there wasn’t even standing room anywhere. We curled up in our little corner and pulled out our gra
mmar books, since we both had tests the next day. In Paris, we got on our final train for the supposed three and a half hour trip that turned into four hours. This time I actually had two seats to myself, so I got nice and comfortable and slept a little, studied a lot, and listened to my iPOD till it died. We finally made it back to Geneva around 11:00 where we caught the tram to the bus stop. We were sooo tired and silly at this point. We managed to catch the last bus of the night back to the border and m
ade it to campus by 12:30 to collapse in our beds. 
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