England Via Paris and the Chunnel

If I were going to get back on board ship before it headed across the Atlantic I needed to get going. Bob and Betsy were set up, so I walked across the street from out hotel to the train station.  I took the 6:05 am SNCF train to Paris. First class, baby! I didn't want to miss any of France.

We zipped along smoothly at about 200 mph across the countryside.

I was told I'd have to switch trains in Paris to go to London and there would be an hour and a half layover.  What they forgot to tell me was that I had to change train stations.  I arrived at Gare Montparnasse only to learn I had to transfer to Gare Nord.  That was a subway trip across Paris packed in like sardines.

I got to Gare Nord and settled into a modern high-speed train.  We headed across the French countryside barreling toward the Chunnel.  I don't think we even slowed down. The tunnel is over 50 kilometers long and it takes less than 25 minutes to transverse. A serious piece of engineering.

I spent the night in London at a hotel above a pub, The Prince Arthur. It was so stereotypical that was actually a couple of older gentlemen in tweed jackets and handlebar mustaches reading newspapers and having a pint.  I had some not so good English beer and some really good fish and chips. 

The next day I caught the train to Liverpool to catch up with the ship. At least the change of stations in London was only a four block walk. On the Virgin train out of London I met the Pope and a posse of her nuns. I suspect there was drinking involved.

This was an engagement party for the future Mrs. Pope. Check out the gentleman walking up on the right.

English beer not so good.

Once in Liverpool I rode to the ship in a really good taxi. a TX4 Hackney.  It is black, roomy and a purpose built taxi. And although I couldn't understand the driver's English, we got there.  I understood the French better than this Liverpooler.

Very roomy.

TX4 Hackney