Paris Weekend - Day 2

For all that it is dim and, in many parts, smells of piss, Paris Gare du Nord does serve some good food. The French it seems, whilst they do not pay much attention to under the rim or indeed under the arms do demand excellent food even when it is not French in origin. I was at Brasserie Alize consuming an early lunch, Greek as it happens, and waiting for a Eurostar to St Pancras. This, you might note, was rather unexpected. Below, a little cameo unfolded as a bold drunk armed with nothing more than a bottle of Heineken was giving some lip to three squaddies armed with guns. His judgement might have been clouded.

When we got up, it was depressingly cloudy again and there appeared to be showers in the distance. Breakfast was good but we returned to the room dispirited and Greg's leg was sore and swollen from yesterday's excessive walking. That, with the weather seemed to preclude hours of tramping around today. With surprising ease we decided to go home and I booked on Eurostar. It certainly did not seem attractive to get up before six tomorrow and face CDG again. In the taxi to Gare du Nord I regretted our decision for a few moments but knew too that it was correct. The buildings of Paris looked very beautiful and shone even in the flat light. We shall return but probably not by plane.

Gare du Nord has changed subtly over the many years we have been going there. Whilst the suburban section is in a bright extension the main terminal remains rather dim and the concourse very cluttered presenting few pleasing opportunities to the camera. It remains a focal point for undesirables and one feels the need to take extra care with ones bag.

I was left wondering whether Eurostar is the attractive alternative it should be but that is to a large extent a rhetorical question. Security angered me deeply when I had to go through the arch four times all because of the packaging of my Omeprazole. Once again I was threatened that I might not get my train if I showed any dissent. This is a dilemma of the age. There are some damaged people working in security and they have inordinate power. I can not see the solution but it all serves to make travel less and less attractive. On board service was lethargic to stationary and the food dull. Our train was timed for the fastest journey over the route at 2h 16 non-stop to St Pancras but failed to come near to that. The rational mind can not grasp why, on emerging from the tunnel to the UK side, we should slow to a brief standstill BEFORE continuing on the high speed line. To be fair though I think we lost most of the time in France. We crossed the Medway bridge for the first time and only glimpsed Ebbsfleet and Stratford stations. The approach to St Pancras is a spectacular curve and it was most peculiar to be arriving there by train only days after our visit.

We were fortunate to catch a Piccadilly Line train straight away and there were no delays on the M3 either.