The dark was crisp with winter’s morning breeze and the sun was yet to make its appearance when I awoke at 3:30 am on November 25th, eager to make my way to St. Pancras to board the Eurostar.
Honestly though, my trip to Paris hardly lasted as long as that sentence.
At 4:30 I caught the night bus (regrettably not the Knight Bus) to King’s Cross, then made my way over to St. Pancras, where a cup of coffee and a ham and cheese croissant satisfied my hunger, until I got on the supposedly speedy 05:40 Eurostar. This, mind you, was probably their oldest train – with no wifi (WHAT?!) and outlets that only worked for the last hour or so of the train ride.
What should’ve been a smooth two and a half hour journey was quickly lengthened due to signal problems and the train taking faulty (if I heard correctly) north of Paris.
Finally, at 10:15 am, an hour after the scheduled arrival time, the train pulled into Paris.
If any Londoner thought London was grey, they should’ve experience this Parisian day.
But I’ll stop writing and let the pictures do the talking for me.
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I’ll catch you in my next blog post.
Or should that be Katch?