Trains, planes... but no automobiles

HIRING a car on holiday can be a stressful business — firstly there’s the paperwork, then the cost, then the map-reading and last but not least, the reality of driving on the ‘wrong’ side of the road.

But more often than not, it’s a necessary evil — or is it?

Last month we decided to put our survival instincts to the test and booked a fortnight in the heart of the Pyrenees without out any mode of transport to get us from A to B.

Many people looked horrified when I explained that our family of five would be relying on public transport and our trusty trainers to transport both ourselves and our luggage to our picturesque chalet in the mountain.

I, on the other hand, figured it would be a great family adventure which would make the holiday more interesting.

But I hadn’t factored in the prospect of a strike by the French air-traffic-controllers (ATC) which would not only delay our journey considerably, but also land us 100 miles away in a different country.

When we arrived in Cork airport ready and rearing to go, we were greeted by the sight of hundreds of passengers patiently waiting for news of their scheduled flights to France — including at least one plane load of people (many in wheelchairs) heading to Lourdes in the hope of some respite and maybe even a cure from a debilitating illness.

Our flight to Carcassonne seemed to be unaffected and after delightedly boarding on time, we waited for take-off. But our holiday joy was short-lived as the captain announced that our flight was cancelled due the ATC strikes — and we would all have to disembark.

Momentarily stunned into submission, we soon jumped into action and made a beeline for the service desk which was key to saving our holiday. After a lengthy wait behind some very irate passengers, we decided to throw caution to the wind and instead of heading home with a refund and our tails between our legs; we agreed to go on the next flight to Girona in Spain.

So we would have a slight change of plan and a great deal more travel, but we would get to our destination by tea-time — just six hours later than planned.

But of course, things rarely go to plan, and our second flight was delayed by four hours — this meant we didn’t arrive in Girona until 10.30pm, by which time it was too late to even think about trying to find transport to France. So there was nothing for it but to bunk down in the nearest hotel and catch the ‘Frogbus’ the following morning to Perpignan, where we would then get a train for the final leg of our journey.

However, someone up there must have been having a laugh at our expense because after rising early to catch the bus to France, we discovered (an hour-and-a-half after departure time) that the bus line had either gone out in sympathy with the ATC strikers or was waging its own protest.

Not to be deterred by this latest twist of fate, we got chatting to another family who had followed the same steps as us all the way from Ireland and we agreed to share a taxi minibus to Perpignan, where we would then attempt to get a train to Carcassonne.

Like a scene from ‘Trains, Planes and Automobiles’, we loaded up the vehicle and began the 40-minute journey which would take us over the border to France. On arrival, we bade farewell to our travelling companions and got ready for the next leg.

But lo and behold, drivers on our train line were also on strike so the only way to get to our final destination was a local bus which visited every hamlet along the way and would take upwards of two hours.

C’est la vie, there was nothing else for it, so we hot-footed it to the bus station, joined the queue and gratefully sank into our seats for the homeward stretch of our 24-hour journey to Carcassonne. This time the Gods were smiling on us as the bus actually went through the sleepy little village of Quillan which was just two miles away from our eagerly-anticipated holiday home.

I had been texting the owners throughout the journey so a great fuss was made of us when we finally arrived — and the sight of our little cottage, complete with private garden and inviting sun-loungers was utterly blissful.

There was just one snag — with all our luggage (an impressively minimalistic carry-on-bag per person), we had no hands to carry any food, so there was nothing for it but to venture out again to the supermarket — which was luckily just 500m away.

We must have looked comical carrying our hastily-emptied suitcases to the shop and filled them up with essentials (including local wine and cheese) and wheeled them back to the house. But what did we care, we were on holiday?

Finally, after an eventful start, we soon settled into a leisurely routine of swimming or lounging by the pool, hiking in the mountains, hiring bicycles and venturing out for supplies. But determined that we would actually see some of the locality, we also trekked into the local village on several occasions, caught the bus to Limoux (famous for sparkling wine) and then the train to Carcassonne.

All journeys are €1 per person and because we were travelling on the public system, we met so many people — both locals and tourists and really got a feel for the area.

In Carcassonne, we went to see the world famous medieval city — La Cité — and took a wonderfully tranquil trip down the Canal du Midi, experienced a hair-raising afternoon at the O2 Adventure Park watching the children balance on tight ropes and zip wires between trees which were up to 70ft high and over a lake 320ft wide. As you can imagine, the kids loved it but we felt like we needed more than a sip of local wine to get over the shock.

Two weeks after we started out from Cork, we headed to Carcassonne airport (by bus and train) for our return journey, which in comparison to the outward leg, was a piece of cake.

But having said that, the whole experience of diverting to another country, figuring out the public transport systems, working out back-up plans and really integrating into the community was a fantastic experience.

Yes, it is nice to have the comfort of a hire car, but this holiday taught us that travelling by car can separate you from the rest of the world. Relying on public transport gives you a totally different perspective of the country you are visiting — it forces you to use your foreign language skills and think on your feet and it makes for a great adventure.

So I would say to anyone who doesn’t want to hire a car and feel obliged to use it every day of the holiday — take the plunge, use your instincts and learn how to get around abroad. All you need is a spirit of adventure and a sturdy pair of shoes.

For more information on the area visit www.carcassonne-tourisme.com