Long Distance Train Journeys

Every once in a while I get the feeling I would like to take a long, uninterrupted train ride. I flew to England to attend a wedding, which is worthy of a blog on its own, but I chose to return by train, leaving St. Pancras, London, for a run down to Paris through the Euro Tunnel. From there the journey would take me to Barcelona, and from Barcelona to Valencia. I reasoned that much time on trains should get the obsession out of my system for a while.

"The best laid plans of men and mice often go astray." A very wise man said that, and all too often it turns out to be true. On April 1st I bought my train tickets for travel on August 9th. That gave me very useful discounts. (Or, so I thought!) On August 8th I presented myself at the EuroStar machine and punched in my six digit code and out should have come my ticket. Machine had no information about me, so I spoke to a person who looked and said she could see where a reservation had been made for me, but as no money had been received they had no ticket for me.

This is absolutely the worst thing that can happen to a traveller at the end of his holiday when, supposedly you have spent all your budget. I originally paid 161 euros for this leg of the journey, now it cost 222 euros.  I set off the next day, very early after having spent a totally restless night in the world's worst hotel. Leaving St. Pancras is boring. There is nothing worth looking at, so I decided to close my eyes at that point so as to be awake for the run through the countryside. I awoke and I was in the country, but the countryside of France. Ah well!

My arrival in Paris was at La Gare du Nord. I needed to get to La Gare du Lyon fast, as for all I knew I had no ticket for the onward journey. I approached a taxi and the driver said he would be pleased to drive me, but the fare would be 75 euros. Sweet Jesus! O.K. I didn't have time to argue the point, or so I thought.

Gare du Lyon was the most confusing station I have ever encountered. There was no ticket waiting for me there, and it was thought that I might not get space on any of the trains to Barcelona that day. Even I was amazed how calm I was, but when I finally got to the ticket seller there was space, but not until the 4 pm train. I could have walked over from Gare du Nord, I had so much time to wait. For this leg of the journey I had previously paid 100 euros, which was heavily discounted, but now it cost 232 euros.  At least I would arrive in Barcelona that night where my pre-paid hotel room was waiting for me.

This was a fast train, travelling at up to 300 kmph, but nevertheless it took six hours. It was comfortable and the scenery quite interesting. I didn't acquire a seat companion for a long time, so I was alone with my thoughts and a constantly changing picture from my window. When I finally did get a companion, he turned out to be Benjamin, a Frenchman who spoke fluent English. His second love is sailing, (he will marry his first love next month) which is something I know a little about. We got to talking about the evolution of sailing and much of our conversation centered around the world of the America's Cup class of futuristic competition.

There is one part of that journey in Perpignan where the train crosses the marsh flats. As you look out the windows on both sides the train appears to be a boat because there is water all around. I have to assume there is a bridge network, but if so it is very low to the water.

To make a long story shorter, the rest of my trip went well. A good night's rest was had in Barcelona at a hotel that more than made up for the night before, and the next morning I caught my train for the run down to Valencia, and home at last.

I told people in England that they were having much more comfortable weather than was Spain. England had 27 degrees, dry, and sunny weather. Amazing! Spain had been having high 30's, and mid 40's, together with thunderstorms. England was pretty pleased to realise that for once they were the winners.

If I had it to do again I would not rely solely on a six digit code to produce my tickets. At least I would insist on confirmation through the agency that my payment had been received and properly credited.

Copyright (c) 2015  Eugene Carmichael