Writer 1879: Solitary Journey in France

Chapter 79 Goodbye, Paris! (Second update, please vote!)
Lionel, Petit, and Alice ultimately did not make it to the Seine.

As the weather warmed up and two spring rains fell, all the accumulated grime in Paris was washed away.

In the past two days, most sections of the Seine have been filled with excrement, sewage, garbage, and even corpses accumulated throughout the winter.

The river water had turned a terrifying yellowish-brown and emitted a horrible odor.

The parks and forests along the river have become unbearably smelly.

Lionel now lives at 12 Rue Antanne, where the natural water supply comes from the relatively clean upper reaches of the Seine, but it also has a strange smell.

Discerning middle-class residents had to buy bottles of clean water for 10 sous, supposedly from the springs of "Evian," which even the wealthy drank.

Of course, the rich have now all retreated to villas in other provinces, or simply gone abroad for travel.

Middle-class families with some means took their entire families to holiday homes in the countryside or by the sea; in short, they couldn't stay in Paris.

The bustling city suddenly became much quieter, and 12 Antanne Street was almost empty, but this was followed by a short-term surge in prices.

Le Figaro was clearly very dissatisfied with the Paris city government's measures to manage the Seine River, and directly criticized them on its front page.

The sewage in Paris isn't just in the rivers, it's also in the city hall.

Officials debated "freedom" versus "order" in parliament, forgetting that children drink a broth of germs brewed with freedom every day. When pressed by reporters, a city hall official said, "Yes, we know the river is murky, but the budget hasn't been reached."

Ah, the budget hasn't arrived yet? The cholera outbreak might arrive on time, though. We suggest that if members of parliament had to use Seine water for tea every day, perhaps the budget would arrive on time.

Paris can tolerate artistic radicalism, but not foul-smelling drinking water. How can a country that cannot clean its water sources cleanse its soul?

The tabloid's headline was even more ironic—

The Paris City Government solemnly declares: The odor is harmless.

Yesterday, the Seine saw the removal of another 3,000 dead fish, the remains of a pig with an unknown carcass, and a milkman who was poisoned after drinking the water. Of course, our mayor still tells the public: the stench on the Seine is harmless; if you ignore it, boating on the Seine is still quite romantic!

...]

Lionel flipped through a few newspapers, feeling agitated. He grabbed a bottle from the table and drank the five sous worth of clean water in one gulp.

According to experts, it will take at least three more days for the Seine's water quality to recover. By then, the melting snow from the Languedoc-Langure plateau and the clean rainwater falling along the way will wash away the Seine's pollutants downstream, flowing along the Rouen waterway to Le Havre and finally into the sea.

He quickly made a decision and called out to Patty and Alice, "Ladies, let's go on vacation abroad!"

Two heads quickly popped out from the kitchen and bedroom doors respectively, their expressions of disappointment turning into a mixture of joy and confusion.

Lionel held up a newspaper and pointed to a small square on it: "Jersey, 3 days 2 nights, plus festival discounts and round-trip tickets, 120 francs."

Jersey is a British territory, but it is very close to France; historically it was a notorious penal colony, but now it is a popular tourist destination.

English and French are spoken on the island, and prices are reasonable, making it the cheapest place for French people to experience "exoticism".

Alice jumped out of the room: "Leon, are you crazy? 120 francs, for 3 days..."

Lionel picked up the empty bottle and shook it: "This bottle of water costs 10 sous. How many bottles will the three of us drink in three days? I'll need at least four a day. And that doesn't even include the water we use for cooking."

And Patty, tell her how much a dozen eggs cost these days? Alice, we're going to have to endure expensive drinking water and terrible prices here, and we're constantly at risk of contracting cholera.

The water in the Alps is indeed sweet and refreshing, but we can't go back!

When it came to not being able to return to the Alps, Alice lowered her head in dejection, but still stubbornly added, "I'm fine drinking tap water, as long as it's boiled..." Patty nodded repeatedly, "Young master, have you forgotten? We used to drink water directly from the neighborhood well, and it tasted the same as the tap water these past few days..."

Lionel: "..." Petty's hygiene awareness still needs to be improved!

However, he was the male head of the household, and since he had already made his decision, the other two had no choice but to obey.

Lionel considered inviting Sophie, but then he suddenly realized that he didn't know exactly where Sophie lived, only that it was on Laney Street in the 10th arrondissement, so he had to give up the idea.

------

The three of them didn't have many clothes, so they quickly packed them up and took a horse-drawn carriage to the Saint-Lazare station in Paris.

Alice wore a black veil, which covered most of her face, but this was a common outfit for women in this era and would not attract attention.

Like Petit, she had never ridden a train before, and the last time she came to Paris, she had taken a church carriage, so she seemed quite excited.

Saint-Lazare Station, as France's largest train station and transportation hub, is always packed with people during holidays.

France's railway system was already very advanced at that time, with train stations in major cities across the country. The ticket price was roughly 8 centimes per kilometer, and discounts were often offered to attract passengers.

The ticket to the port city of Le Havre costs 15 francs per person, while in Petit it costs only 8 francs, but you have to squeeze in another person next to you.

Lionel had always traveled between Paris and the Alps by train, so he easily bought the tickets and led the two of them onto the train.

He bought the cheapest third-class seat, which consisted of only a wooden board and a thin, negligible cloth pad. Every scratch and every joint on the rails could be felt with his bare bottom.

Moreover, the third-class carriages are very close to the front of the train, and thick smoke and coal dust often drift over. If the windows are not closed properly, you will inevitably end up with a face covered in soot.

And of course, there's the piercing sound of train whistles—a sound that sounds melodious and romantic from afar, but up close it just makes your ears ring.

But for Alice and Petty, all of this seemed insignificant compared to the novelty of riding the train and enjoying the scenery outside.

At first, the view outside the window was the familiar cityscape of Paris, with the rooftops and church bell towers of Paris slowly receding into the distance.

More than an hour later, the endless apple orchards and flocks of sheep appeared—they grazed peacefully on the grass, like the French country folk who never question their fate.

Next came the Norman village, with its black roofs and granite chimneys standing side by side, and children chasing trains along the railway tracks.

After a journey of nearly 7 hours, the train finally arrived at the Le Havre train station at 4 p.m.

The three of them got off the train with their suitcases, and then went to the restroom at the train station to wash off the coal dust that stuck to their faces and clothes before arriving at the port looking presentable and queuing to board the ferry.

Because it was the Easter holiday, there were many French tourists visiting the area. The three of them queued for more than half an hour before boarding the "Saint-Michel" ship.

Lionel bought a standard cabin ticket for 5 francs per person; a first-class ticket with a sun deck or a private cabin would cost 12 to 20 francs per person.

This was also Alice and Patty's first time riding on a large ship. Shortly after setting sail, the two of them grabbed the railing and vomited, their faces turning ashen, before retreating back to their cabin to rest.

Lionel stood on the deck, thoroughly enjoying himself—the sea was churning with pale golden waves, seagulls circled overhead, their cries cutting through the air, and the sea breeze was refreshing and invigorating.

Having lived in Paris for so long, I've almost forgotten what clean air tastes like.

No wonder Parisians, once they have money, the first thing they do is buy or build their own resorts in the suburbs and countryside.

Just then, a familiar voice came: "Ladies, how about I treat you to some oysters?"

(End of this chapter)