we are not on a girls trip

“By the way we are not on a girls trip. This is actually work.” Well it doesn’t bloody sound like it. My bose phones are on even before the train has left the station. Headphones are probably the single most important travel accessory.

Missed the Eurostar I was meant to catch due to an aforementioned schoolboy error.  Fortunately there were three whole seats left on the fourteen fifty two! Two of them were together so I have a row of two seats to myself which as you know is very handy when it comes to food time.

The headphones are only partially successful. I can still hear her. Her companions have just all laughed in unison. Corporates. Exacerbated by the fact that two of them are sat across the aisle from the others. She, in a window seat, is projecting her voice so that they can join in the conversation. It gets worse. One of them has a loud American accent!  Bring on the beer.

Feels like the weekend. Thursdays usually do feel like that although I do have one regular conference call on Friday afternoons. Two pee em. At least the Eurostar is generally painless, once you are checked in.

Whilst listening to ma toons and writing this I am also watching “The Flying Scotsman from the Footplate” with subtitles on BBC iPlayer. Magnificent. Magnifico. Magnifique. Great.

What a contrast it is between the Eurostar and the ‘Scotsman.

Pescetarian. The American. She will eat meat at a push but considers full veggie too difficult when trying to keep the family happy at mealtimes. There ya go. I don’t mind a baked potato meself on occasion, and beans on toast. Oh and a chip butty. However I suspect a takeaway beef curry with fried rice will be on the menu tonight. Go down well after a long and tiring trip. It’s not on my list of all time great nosh particularly as it can vary quite a bit from one Chinese restaurant to another but makes it to page two. Same as an Indian curry I suppose.

It is dark therefore we must have stopped in Lille. Would be a bit of a shame if someone got on and sat next to me. I’d have to shift my stuff 🙂.

The problem now is that they have been drinking and the laughter is getting louder and more frequent. I’m not really complaining. It one of those funny facts of the life itinerant and they are perfectly entitled to bring some joy into their otherwise drab and humdrum lives 🙂

Lille is rapidly disappearing to the rear. Countryside opens up before us. Small villages race by, church spires stand sentry, proud guardians of an ancient way of life. Do they have television I wonder? Certainly not internet access, sureleyment.

The two girls on the other side of the aisle have drifted off and are engrossed in their devices. Sucked in. I can almost hear the whooshing sound. Slurrrrp. Sluuurrrrrrrrppppp. One of them is reading her kindle.

I have a paperback with me in my bag if I get bored with ritin stuff. It’s a history of the Isle of Man from a sea power perspective from around the sixth century AD for the next eight hundred years ago. Can’t remember the exact title or the dates but it is interesting obvs. The clash between different Celtic cultures – Brython versus Gael. Gael prevailed in the end I imagine based on where the Manx language fits into the scheme of things but I haven’t got that far yet. Also the Vikings aren’t on the scene at the mo.

The kindle reader has nodded off. That’s what a glass of champagne does for you. The others are powering on through. Total pros. I imagine she, the main “speaker” will get home tonight, flop on the sofa and say nothing. Vocal chords totally exhausted. She might be able to hold her hand out and utter the word DRINK!.

We are now in the chunnel. Must be unless there is a total eclipse going on. Not impossible but I think I’d have heard about it in advance. This knowledge is very powerful. Can you imagine why?

The chunnel is 50.45km long or 50,45km as they say in the continental Europe. I’ll never get used to that comma. Virgule. It’s on the screen above the aisle. Screens. Happy to pass that info on. You never know when it will come up in a pub quiz, or on University Challenge.

This train gets in to St Pancras at 15:57. My train leaves at 16:06. It’s going to be touch and go. Life will be a lot easier if I can catch it but it’s not a cert. Not a racing cert. I ain’t gonna race anyway. You have to shuffle down the moving staircase and around past customs then across to Kings X. We shall see. You will find out in due course.

Right I’m going to carry on watching the Flying Scotsman. Och aye.

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