The Kindly Ticket Inspector

We arrived at the Gare d’Austerlitz  two hours early owing to my schedule building in a large margin for error in travel times.  We quickly ascertained from the Departure Board that a train was to leave for Blois in under twenty minutes. The ticket office was easy enough to find but the queue was miles long.  With ever decreasing minutes to play with we had no time to wait to speak to someone.  We headed for the train and hoped for the best. What appeared to be the guard was standing at a lectern shaped podium at the head of the platform. He was busy, locked into an argument with a hopeful traveller who appeared to be trying to board with train with a ticket which was a few months out of date.  Another employee of SNCF arrived and, after shoving his oar in, he turned to us and asked us what we wanted.  Getting no encouragement to “parlez vous Anglais”, I pitched in with my faltering French.  Could we board the train early with our ticket? At first he looked very positive, until he studied the tickets in more detail, peering at them as if this might extract more information. His expression turned from quizzical to perplexed and then he turned to me and pointed towards the part of the ticket which stipulated that we had to travel on the specified time. With a suitably grave expression I shook my head and we acted out an unspeaking charade. The end of his index finger connected with 13.33 and he looked at me and gabbled in French which I assumed translated as “No chance, you’re booked onto this later train and its non transferable”.  His hopeless expression said it all.  I studied the ticket and shook my head with the same gravitas I had exhibited earlier, and hoped for the best.  Next minute he seemed to snap, whipped out a pen, and wrote across the ticket what I later realised was “autorisé” – authorised - followed by  a scrawled signature.  He then thrust the tickets into my hand and waved us forward onto the train.  With great relief we wheeled our bikes down the platform, boarded the train, and took our seats.  Shortly after, the train pulled out, with passengers running to catch it, presumably delayed by the queue at the ticket office.  When the tickets came to be inspected it was by the kindly monsieur who had endorsed the tickets for us.  This caused us to arrive at Blois two hours earlier than we might have otherwise.