Then walk back across the very sunny and very windy plaza – I take off my glasses, tuck them in my shirt, put on sunglasses. We walk around the station, around all the construction, sit in a quiet spot for a while. Fifteen minutes before boarding, I realize my eyeglasses are missing. Did I leave them at the restaurant? Run back, retrace steps: the waiter nicely takes my phone number to call in case he finds them; but there's nothing obvious when I retrace the roundabout way we walked... I note the website for the Lost&Found. Nothing to be done – I don't really need them, my distance vision is probably 20/40; but the small print is now illegible. By this time boarding has commenced! We race downstairs then upstairs to the track, a train-worker helps me get the suitcases aboard the first obvious car, the doors close. hmm—we are several cars away from our assigned seat...lots of rolling, actually easier than expected (the walkways are mostly clear, and people are generally helpful). Whew. Relax. Less than 3 hours later, arrive in Montpellier St.Roch (pronouced rock), central station. [the suburban station Montpellier South is for the high-speed train to Marseille] AirBnB instructions are to retrieve the apartment key from a keybox outside a real estate office near the station. Thanks to google-maps, it is a quick walk from the station. No obvious keybox. Fortunately, the office is open, and a realtor inside immediately figures I am a “Vincent” customer, and he shows me the keybox, hidden behind a frosted glass panel. Keys retrieved! Walk back to the station, where we discuss alternative travel routes, as this part of town has very very limited driving ways, and Bolt cars are not close. Walk outside to the distant taxi stand. He nicely drives us to our apartment building.
23 Boulevard Sarrail has a nondescript entrance for two obscure businesses – we walk up two flights of stairs to our unmarked apartment door with its recently-replaced lock and missing doorbell. Indoors is a renovated 1-bedroom shotgun apartment with a tiny balcony overlooking the park. We settle in: everything's okay, only unusual bit is the lack of a shower door; but all works fine. Vincent obviously lives here most of the time; we clarify that all food/drink items are his, not to be consumed; so we shuffle a few things in the fridge to clarify our space. We walk out to the park, next to the Place de la Comédie, and shop at the Monoprix grocery store. Dinner that evening at the next-door The White Cat restaurant, a vibrant small restaurant, diverse mix of clientele, very nice dinner. We took their menu so as to plan a later pizza take-out. It's chilly, in the fifties. The apartment has no TV, only a small projector with a chromecast dongle; we watch youtube from my Pixelphone.
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