Saturday 27th May -
Saturday started early, but by the time I was 'up-and-at-'em' most of the chateau crowd were gone, away to catch flights or trains which would whisk them up to Paris or elsewhere. By 7:30am the only people left were myself, Kerry, Ellen and Alex. The decision was made to get down to the train station early - both to give Ellen a good start on her six-hour + road trip back north and in the hope that we train-travellers could possibly get an earlier train to avoid the repeated rushing around in Paris.

We missed the Wolcotts' train by about all of ten minutes and found that there was no way to get on earlier trains without paying vast sums of money. Alex's train was mid-morning, Kerry and I were on the same train as each other leaving about 2:30, though she was in First Class (see, the Karma Gods listen!) and I was in mere mortal class (see, the Karma Gods don't listen!). So I'd ultimately see Kerry for all of five minutes the whole trip. Still, a few solid minutes of sleep and some laptop viewing would make the trip travel faster.

To kill the time at Biarritz station Kerry and I had some food, ice-cream and light refreshment and tried to use the less-than-well-turned-out toilets as little as possible. I worked on my tan. I still looked British though I had a warmer hue. The train turned up on time and I dragged my luggage aboard. As mentioned he trip was largely uneventful, but I finished my Michael Connelly novel and rexolved to do more work on my own.

However at the other end there was another repeated rush. Kerry and in got a taxi from Montparnasse to Gare De Nord but with the Biarritz train coming in over ten minutes late, the pressure was on. As the very vailaint taxi-driver (who spoke excellent English) did his best, it seemed less and less likely I'd make it to the Eurostar terminal in time. I arrived outside GdN with literally five minutes to get across the station. It still seemed unlikely I'd make it and I had Kerry's number as back-up in case I had to stay in Paris overnight (which seemed a fair alternative) - however fortunately/unfortunately, I made the Eurostar with seconds to spare. Kerry headed iff for her hotel and another few days in Paris.

Proving that I was leaving the holiday behind, the clouds started gathering as soon as I left Paris and when two or so hours later I pulled into London's Waterloo, there'd already been rain lashing the windows. Certain Underground strands were closed (Hello UK!) so the route to my hotel was less easy than anticpated. It was drier in central London but the hotel I was staying in overnight was a disappointment - incredibly basic, quite noisy and more expensive than the great one I'd used on the way out.

King's Cross main station was closed on Sunday for planned 'essential maintenance' so all the trains heading in my direction were starting further up the line at Finsbury Park. K's X caters for thousands of people very day, FP... not so much, so you can imagine the chaos on the platform. The train arrived late (oh, back in the UK for sure, now!) and I wound my way homeward. I arrived in Leeds late afternoon and eventually slept like a very sleepy thing...