French intelligence

Arrived at CDG, followed the signs and found the RTR trains. The ticket machines the Paris girls thinks is the highpoint of the french evolution, proving the Paris transport system superiour to the SL network in Stockholm. And indeed this is intelligent! I walk up to the machine, and it's simple and polite AND it accepts my major credit cards like Visa and Mastercard.

I enter my order, and even though there is no english interface it's intuitive enough. I order a ticket to Paris and press the icon showing a credit card. Enter my card. It doesn't validate. Ok, sometimes Swedish bank Visas don't work to well abroad, so I repeat the process with my more international Eurocard. No result.

Next to me are two swedish women experiencing a similar problem, but with the assistance of one of the nicely posted guides that help people who can't figure out the machine. He point's at a sign next to the screen: "This machine only accepts FRENCH credit cards". But of course! There is the international community, and there is france. Just as I started to like this country.

But no need to rush to conclutions - the machineappears to accept cash, so walk to a nearby cashpoint, get cash, return to the machine, enter my order and ... but wait... this top modern machine only accepts coins.

I walk around the machine, then the entire hall. Can't find a changing machine anywhere. There is an exchange office, but they only have bills. I wonder what the train company though... all foringers arriving to this internarional airport will either carry euro coins or french creditcards? I ask one of the guides to help me find a changing machine. "There is no, but try in the shop over there". On my way to the kiosk (where the cashier spend a large portion of her time telling travellers they weren't changing money) I met the Swediish women, apparently still stranded too. We wished each other good look at getting out of the place, although it was apparent frrom their cynical smiles that they didn't put much hope in this.

So the shop was no good. I looked around and decided the huge cue (see picture) was probably ment for people in my situation. I bite the sour apple and stand there. It's long, but I wait, and wait, and wait. Curiously enough I find a changing machine hidden in a corner, inside the ticket office, cose to the front end9f the(ue. Other people leave the cue when they see this, but by now I don't take any chances - I keep my position in line and wait. (Fortunately, since the machine apparently doesn't give out any change) Finally it's my turn - I buy a ticket for Les Halles, pay cash, and walk away. It only took me an hour and a alf to get out of the airport. I have only one peace of advice for Paris Girl: If the community transport is the guiding star of french intelligence there isn't much hope! Leave now! Or - to make a pastishe on Churchills famous words on Europe: France propably is a very good thing - for the French.