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Travel Blog of the Gaps
In America, if you ask for directions to the town's railway station, most likely you will hear one of two answers: (1) a possible route to get there, or (2) an indication that it closed decades ago, and why would you want to go to that part of town, anyway.
In Europe, when you ask the same question, you are more likely to be greeted with another question: "Which one?"
Americans are spoiled by our cars, but we are comparatively deprived in our rail service. For example, London's central area alone contains 18 long-distance railway stations. The major rail lines serving Paris operate 8 stations within the city.
And Saturday was my chance to taste the rail service we Americans deny ourselves.
I began a bit before dawn. Eurostar's first train to Paris leaves London's St. Pancras International railway station about 5:30 AM. When the UK and France agreed to construct a tunnel crossing the 23-mile-wide English Channel, they converted surface travel time between London and Paris from an all-day affair to a 2½-hour jaunt. As a result, a Londoner who caught the train I boarded could be in Paris (which is even an hour ahead of London) in time to report to the office.
Once I arrived in Paris' Gare du Nord station, I extracted some Euros from an ATM, grabbed a croissant from a station vendor, and hopped aboard the Paris Metro. Within 15 minutes I was in the transport carnival known as Gare Montparnasse, ready for my next train to St. Pierre du Corps (a suburb of Tours). Upon my arrival there, Toby was waiting at the station to drive me to the chateau. I was early enough to enjoy lunch with his family.
My other friends faced a bit more trouble. Bob, Richard, Richard, & Shawn had reservations on a 9:30 AM train from the Paris airport to St. Pierre du Corps. Unfortunately, their flight from Boston left more than 2 hours late. They arrived long after their first train had departed, but another train was scheduled within a couple of hours. Although they missed lunch, they reached the chateau in plenty of time to catch a nap before dinner.
The chateau where we are staying reminds me of the Sound of Music, minus the Nazi occupation forces. Or alternatively, a "cottage" in Newport, Rhode Island, minus the traffic. The ceilings are lofty, the floor spaces big enough for a football game, and if you brought in a table, you could easily serve a dinner for 12 in my own bathroom.
In Europe, when you ask the same question, you are more likely to be greeted with another question: "Which one?"
Americans are spoiled by our cars, but we are comparatively deprived in our rail service. For example, London's central area alone contains 18 long-distance railway stations. The major rail lines serving Paris operate 8 stations within the city.
And Saturday was my chance to taste the rail service we Americans deny ourselves.
I began a bit before dawn. Eurostar's first train to Paris leaves London's St. Pancras International railway station about 5:30 AM. When the UK and France agreed to construct a tunnel crossing the 23-mile-wide English Channel, they converted surface travel time between London and Paris from an all-day affair to a 2½-hour jaunt. As a result, a Londoner who caught the train I boarded could be in Paris (which is even an hour ahead of London) in time to report to the office.
Once I arrived in Paris' Gare du Nord station, I extracted some Euros from an ATM, grabbed a croissant from a station vendor, and hopped aboard the Paris Metro. Within 15 minutes I was in the transport carnival known as Gare Montparnasse, ready for my next train to St. Pierre du Corps (a suburb of Tours). Upon my arrival there, Toby was waiting at the station to drive me to the chateau. I was early enough to enjoy lunch with his family.
My other friends faced a bit more trouble. Bob, Richard, Richard, & Shawn had reservations on a 9:30 AM train from the Paris airport to St. Pierre du Corps. Unfortunately, their flight from Boston left more than 2 hours late. They arrived long after their first train had departed, but another train was scheduled within a couple of hours. Although they missed lunch, they reached the chateau in plenty of time to catch a nap before dinner.
The chateau where we are staying reminds me of the Sound of Music, minus the Nazi occupation forces. Or alternatively, a "cottage" in Newport, Rhode Island, minus the traffic. The ceilings are lofty, the floor spaces big enough for a football game, and if you brought in a table, you could easily serve a dinner for 12 in my own bathroom.
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