A year ago today I rode the Eurostar from the Gard Nord in Paris to London’s Waterloo Station. It was the last leg of Euroad, back to the point of beginning before returning home.
It was a bright clear morning and the French landscape moved past the commissary car windows with a speed that seemed both safe and unnatural. I drank coffee and looked far out to the horizon, and watched for the occasional interruption of a town, its clusters of sharp angled rooftops topped by the parish hall’s steeple.
Last week, quite by chance, I found an article, journalistic in the truest sense of the term, describing Mary Jackson’s day-trip from London to Paris via the Eurostar. Departing from the completely renovated St. Pancras Station, she arrives in Paris three-and-a-half hours later. After taking in “...a leisurely lunch, a tower, two cathedrals and a park...” she returns to London 12 hours after her departure.
Read the story HERE.
