We are back from Paris. Our train pulled into Waterloo around 11 am. Exiting from the Eurostar platforms involves a long walk for reasons which are not obvious to me. It’s more like the long trek through the airport when you arrive from abroad. Perhaps it provides an opportunity for the authorities to observe us as we make our way down and pounce on anyone suspcious.
Out in the street at last, we found the same bank holiday quiet that we had left behind in Paris. We took a bus to Euston and changed there to one to Angel. It wasn’t long before we were home and brewing up.
When you think that travelling to Paris used to involve either a flight or a long journey that included a sea crossing, the modern train journey of 2 hours 35 minutes between the capitals seems almost miraculous. Expense aside, it means that a weekend in Paris is now nothing unusual.
Returning from holiday is always an interesting experience. We have been away for three nights only but there is still a thrill about finding myself back in London. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, perhaps.
As it is a bank holiday today, we are still in weekend mode. We will be going out to lunch in a few minutes (once Tigger has finished reviewing her photos and films). I have collected my emails but most were spam. No surprise there, then, eh?
I will publish my account of our weekend in Paris once Tigger’s photos are ready and I can select some to accompany my text.