The Austerlitz airport was crowded but silent when I arrived. Not surprisingly, I was 2 hours early and quickly caught wind that trains were running late. This too was not shocking as the week of snow in Europe has caused chaos.
I picked my way through the masses of people standing before each of the three giant train schedule signs. Glowing in orange lights were times beginning just past 1pm; it was presently 6pm.
I found a seat on a slab of concrete along a billboarded wall and contemplated what to do until the platform would be announced for the Barcelona train. My bum had not yet frozen against the cold, improvised bench when the intercom chimed duh dun daaa duh and a woman speaking in French gave an update. A few cheers went up to the sky and I looked around perplexed. I queried the girl to my right who briefly explained the reaction of the people who had been waiting many hours.
A group of four young women and one older man began chanting – I can only guess it was a rally for their specific trains to be assigned a platform.
Just then it happened.
Lights illuminated and cheers once again broke the stillness of a busy train station. Then swoosh! Like a director shouting ¨scene¨ the characters broke their pose and a flurry of commotion ensued. Some went right, some went left. The girl to my side jumped up with a huge grin, grabbed the handle of her rolling suitcase and dashed to her platform. Wheels spun, feet pattered – energy rushed.
I watched the blur of people go this way and that way. Two pet owners held tight to the leash of their eager dogs while babies in prams yelped at the disturbance of motion. Train employees zoomed by on segways. The scene was all very amusing.
And then it stopped.
The station is now normal. Some wait for platform numbers while others grab a panini for supper. I can now see across to the doorway where I entered. With bum now feeling like ice I wait and gaze up with fingers crossed that I will not suffer a similar fate.


