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That’s it. I’m checking out from the last hostel of the trip. The morning was spent mostly walking around Zaragoza, and having lunch.

I was an hour early at the train station, where I found a shop that sold some Rubik’s-type puzzles. Well, at four euros each, I got myself a little gift. Well, two little gifts.

Already in Zaragoza, we left 10 min late. I only have 21 min for my connection in Narbonne. Yes, that’s a bit annoying, but I have a connection in Narbonne, where it all began. Ah, details. Of course, as more time passed, the delay got longer.

On other good news, I received a text from SNCF telling me part of my trip to Avignon tomorrow has been purely and simply cancelled… I’ll have to deal with that shit tomorrow morning.

Now, objectively, France has a very good rail network. Overly expensive, but very good. And I *can* say that, I’ve tried all 37 rail networks of Europe safe Belarus, Russia and Ukraine. But that kind of cancellation, I’ve had it maybe three times in all that stupid adventure. SNCF, you SUCK.

Finally, three hours later, we entered a long tunnel. On the other side…

Bonjour France!

That’s it. Just like that, with an anticlimatic tunnel border, it’s pretty much over. Still two days left, but none abroad. I’m back in the motherland. I feel sad. Well, melancholic. I don’t know. It’s a complex emotion.

The delay keeps growing. I am going to Toulouse, where I asked my friends if they wanted to greet me at the station to then have a drink, but it turned out only Clément had bothered be there. This disappointment, plus the stress of the connection, and the heavy moral weight of coming back, put me down. Like really, really down. If I miss the train and have to wait an hour for the next one in Narbonne, I might be tempted to just call my mother and quit right now.

Instead, I realised I could just go straight to my friend Pierre’s birthday, near Avignon, as everyone else arrive today anyway. And since today I’m using my Interrail return day, I can use it for any number of train I want until midnight. Sod it, if Toulouse don’t want me, I don’t want it today.

However, the train to Avignon is just four minutes after the one for Toulouse (that it turned out I would have missed anyway), so I had to run through Narbonne station. Quite anticlimatic return to ground zero.

I calmed down in the train, and felt the mood returning again, thanks to a bit of music and an incredible sunset. I met with Pierre in Avignon, and we were off in his car to fetch another guest, who was none other than… Kamel! You may remember him from the Albanian and Montenegrine adventures, back in late April/early May.

We finally got to his mother’s place, in Gargas [Gargas, Vaucluse], and had a nice evening.

I’m back.