After a very early rise, we headed off to Gare De Nord for the 7:39 Eurostar home. And I have to say that the taxi ride is a lot quicker at silly o’clock.
Very soon we were sat with lattes and morning pastries waiting for our train to be announced. Fortunately the annoying American woman and her child Noah boarded the train before ours.
Instead we were entertained by a very loud drunk in the ticket hall. That’s not that surprising perhaps except that there were two heavily armed soldiers there at the time. Rather than continue patrolling they stood and looked menacing. We had to keep moving so I don’t know if they shot him or not.
Our trip was uneventful and we arrived back in London just a few minutes later than advertised. I left Mirinda to catch a bus down to work while I wrestled the hordes on the Piccadilly line. And there were hordes. It was remarkably crowded.
Eventually I reached Waterloo and hopped on the 10:23 home. Though not before listening to the drum band on the concourse as they played Christmas carols to a reggae beat.
I expect this sort of welcome after being away a fortnight but a steel band after a weekend? I think that’s a bit excessive.
Speaking of excessive, it seems there was quite a bit of wind in the south east on the weekend. According to the train guard…
“I was in Croydon with my partner and his daughter. I was walking about ten feet from the daughter when the wind came up and blew us together! It was playing havoc with my asthma and I wasn’t able to drive home. I made my partner drive because the car’s old and the windows fog up and the wind was too strong. It was really frightening…“
This went on for the six minutes between Aldershot and Farnham because I was too slow to feign sleep.
Finally home, I went round to Sue and picked the excited girls up and spent the rest of the day doing the washing and fixing my laptop which had decided to be a bit irritating.
While Paris is always lovely and this trip exceptionally so, there’s nothing quite like our extension to come home to.