I'll always have ...

Several people, after reading my last post, have questioned how I managed to get from London to Brussels and back on the same day. Seems most folks find the trip from Kew to Central London journey enough. Pity. Transportation in Greater London is a cinch to navigate, and with a bit of planning, any trip outside the city of Westminster is easily accomplished. Even when the tube is down for upgrading.

Okay, confession time. Most of the trip lacked any form of planning whatsoever. Perhaps that is why I found so much unexpected delight in it all. Take the journey to continental Europe, for example.

I had no access to the internet from my cozy room in Kew and found internet cafes few and pricey in London. Thus I had no idea what day or time trains ran from the UK to points on the other side of the Chunnel. In an effort to learn what I could about possible trips (while ensuring I didn't waste the better part of a day in the process), I set out for St Pancras Station at the ungodly hour of 6am in the hope of obtaining the necessary information. Fingers were crossed that I might be able to arrange something before the end of the week. As luck would have it, I arrived with just enough to catch a train that very morning for Brussels! And, yes, Suzanne Pleshette fans, it was a Tuesday.

While handing me the ticket, the Eurostar agent instructed me to run, not walk, to the check-in desk at the far end of the very large terminal and "demand" to be served immediately as he was phoning ahead to have the train held for me! Run I did and, after apologizing to the man ahead of me in the queue, begged to be checked in so I could catch the train. I was rushed through as that agent made another phone call to someone further along my panicked route to alert them of my hurried/harried arrival - he did this while yelling at security to hurry me through their line (several other passengers bound for other trains were whisked aside to make way for little me). I then had to clear customs. The woman summoned by the check-in agent hastened me through and then proceeded to practically drag me to the train platform one floor below. The conductor calmly checked my ticket and welcomed me on board! And few short minutes later, I found myself speeding along the track under the English Channel. All in all, it was an amazing experience.

Settling into my plush window seat, I took a few minutes to catch my breath while marveling at what I had just managed to do. The pleasure of having found the last-minute travel arrangement so agreeable to my tight schedule (I was back in my bed at Kew by about 11pm) was doubled by the fact that, when purchasing the Brussels ticket, I also secured a seat on another train the following morning.

Fortunately, the Wednesday train left about 30-45min later than the Brussels train, so I wasn't as rushed getting to the platform. Tuesday's adventure had proven a good dry run, so I easily navigated the check-in, security, customs, etc. without the need for any assistance. So, there I was in St Pancras Station once more, this time headed for a day in ...

Paris. I had been to the City of Light for a couple of days many years ago (two days with Mom & Dad back in 1979, and for one night when returning from the Spanish Riviera with Wayne in 1982), but I had yet to cross the threshold of the Musee d'Orsay.

Situated in the centre of Paris on the banks of the Seine, opposite the Tuileries Gardens, the museum is housed in the former Orsay railway station, which was built for the Universal Exhibition of 1900. I spent more than four hours wandering the galleries, many times catching myself gazing as much as the splendid building as at the artworks therein. As luck would have it, there was a very interesting exhibition of works by Manet, one of the founding members of the Impressionist movement. I especially liked the way the exhibition was hung - sketches, cartoons, and variations of a given painting were grouped near the finished piece so the viewer could appreciate the process the artist went through while considering body position, perspective, and overall composition before settling on the arrangement of the final piece. Works by other Impressionist painters were on display in other parts of the museum including paintings Cezanne, Degas (some of his sculptures, too), Gauguin, and the rest. There was also a wonderful collection of decorative art pieces. I was especially drawn to the furniture (much of it Art Nouveau in style) and a tapestry by the Pre-Raphelite artist Burne-Jones. There was lots of other amazing stuff, too, but not enough room here to describe it all.

The Musee d'Orsay may have been the focus of the trip, but I managed to squeeze in some other sights around Paris. For example, I made a short trip to the base of the Eiffel Tower before heading back across the Seine en route back to the Gard du Nord for the trip home. (If you haven't guessed already, the first picture of this posting is a view from the base of the tower looking up inside the structure toward the top.)

I passed by a carousel and seriously thought of taking a ride except that the day was slipping away rapidly and there were a few more things I wanted to do before boarding the train.

Took time to play outside the Louvre - didn't bother to go in. Time was short, and I spend a great deal of time there on a previous visit.

Paris was in the throws of preparing for St Jean Baptiste Day celebrations the following day. Several stages and bleachers were being set up at various points around the city. The local fire brigade got into a celebratory mood early as they test-drove some vintage equipment before taking part in the big parade.

Also took time to admire the Alexandria Bridge and the accompanying view back toward the Musee d'Orsay. 

Feet were getting a tad weary, so I paused to enjoy a pastis at a wonderful old bar. Must say 51 is the best pastis I've sampled to date. The bar was situated at one end of an old but very well maintained shopping arcade.

I didn't buy anything at the arcade. Instead, I made my way to the Gallery Lafayette where I purchased a lovely traditional beret and a few goodies for the folks back home. Across from the store was a vestige of an earlier era - the metro sign designed by Guillard, a French contemporary of Horta. No, Momzy, I didn't ask to take "the model" in this photo home as a souvenir.

A quick metro ride took me back to the Gare du Nord and the Eurostar to London. I was tucked into my bed in Kew before the clock struck midnight.

Yes, I paid full fare for all this last-minute travel (both airfare to London, and each train trip to the continent), but it was well worth it. Besides, I had saved a packet on accommodation costs thanks to my wee room in Kew, so I felt I could afford to splurge a bit when it came to adding to the overall experience.