My intentions of napping on the train to Paris have been thwarted by the screaming baby in the row just in front of me and to my left… shouldn’t there be an age and/or height limit to get into the first-class cars, like on carnival rides? Here is where I would actually be for a “separate but equal” policy – families travelling with screaming, boisterous children could all go in one car, and business and child-free travellers can be in another car, just like there used to be smoking and non-smoking compartments… I purposely chose my travel dates so as to avoid the school holidays, a time when trains in France are any childless person’s worst nightmare… but I am being punished for my organization by someone too young to be affected by the winter break. I take some solace in the fact that I can see on the faces of everyone else around me that they are also totally irritated. The sign that reads “Voiture silencieuse” on the door seems to mock us. We are travel martyrs but at least we have more comfortable seats than in 2nd class…
So, since I can’t sleep, I thought I’d take advantage of the plug at my seat to follow up on my return to the blog.
In the same vein as that first note of the year, herewith some more reasons why I would never want to move back to Paris or any big city for that matter. This morning I took the photos that follow during a 15-minute walk back to my house from dropping my car off at the garage to have some work done on it while I’m in Paris. Can you imagine getting this scenery during a 15-minute walk in Paris? or anywhere else for that matter? Can you feel the love?
A love which grows as the train whizzes through the rest of Burgundy, which appears to be entirely snowbound and bitterly cold.
Enjoy.