Angleterre

Off to Angleterre

Our last morning in Paris for this trip and we are up and about getting things packed in good time.

It’s Deb Mead’s birthday so we make the obligatory trans-continental phone call. The last one was from the cockpit of our yacht on the Med, this one just from our Paris hotel room.

Our Paris hotel view

Great shop across the road for our baguettes

All done and dusted we check out, after paying the local hotel tax! Another 13 Euros. We are planning well so we purchase our filled baguettes from the Tratoire across the street.

Our cab driver is very quiet for the first half of the trip until the traffic turns mad and we start zooming up the Bus lanes. John even starts laughing at his abusive comments so we continue a witty repartee in Franglaise. He drops us off in the road leading up to Gare du Nord as the traffic came to a standstill. Nice guy, he could have kept us in the car while the meter ran on, but he was happy to stop the meter and let us out.

We find our way through the station without too much hassle and are even allowed out of France and into the UK while still in the station.

We settle into our Eurostar seats and seem to have the opposite seats free until the train is about to leave and a very “interesting” American couple arrive. They take no notice if us what so ever with the wife, of Chinese origin, making a seemingly endless list of requests from her poor husband. They even have the temerity to eat stinky cheese.

We whisk through the French countryside with the train screaming past the cars on the Motorway and they are doing 130kph so we must be going real fast.

The Chunnel bit takes only 20 minutes and we are in England.

We get through St Pancras with no probes, even buying a couple of bottles of wine from Marks and Sparks to bring to Torquay. Must admit it is much easier to buy things when they speak the same language!

The queue for the taxis is rather long and slow but we are entertained by a lovely elderly English lady returning from Switzerland who, going against all decorum, strikes up a conversation!! Talking to someone in the queue is unheard of in England but they must be slowly warming.

Our cabby is rather taciturn and the traffic simply is not moving. Eventually we warm him up and despite his being a Chelsea supporter, we have a good talk all the way to Paddington.

We emerge into chaos. People people people everywhere, all almost running in all different directions, vast, chaotic, and poor Kris gets overwhelmed. She even has to pay 30 p to have a p. Bloody poms! 


Believe it or not, our tickets are popped out of a machine after we put in our details. At least the IT works! But we get a whole heap of tickets and they are quite confusing.

The platform for our train is not put on the board until 10 minutes before departure. There is a mad rush for the turnstile and thankfully our tickets work and we reach our seats in the “quiet” carriage.

We blast through the beautiful English countryside in the fading light. The fields are very reminiscent to New Zealand fields until a castle pops into view!

We change trains at Newton Abbott and a slow train takes into Torquay. Poor Michael is standing looking lost and bewildered as he missed seeing us getting off the train.

A warm welcome greets us at Huxtable Hill and old friendships are very easily rekindled. Lovely to see Michael and Margaret again. A friendship built over 30 years.