It’s all that unplugged time, is it not? The quiet cocoon moments on trains are so conducive to thinking in a way that, say, a crowded line 4 métro or your WIFI’d apartment do not oblige. It was only four days ago I Eurostar-ed out of Paris, but now, back at my place, something feels different, like the first tickle of autumn chasing away an Indian summer.
The light was oh, so pretty in London. Pretty in that you-make-me-want-to-be-a-better-man, anything-is-possible sort of way. The view from our Clerkenwell hotel room:
Of course, when I post about London, it’ll likely be less about revelatory train moments and more about buying scandalous knickers at Agent Provocateur (75% off! Boo yeah!), defeat by inanimate hotel objects and all manner of sisterly hahas and hijinks that transpired.
Speaking of sisters, yesterday afternoon, I took my fearless traveling companion, my cuddly Jennifer whom I love so much it hurts my insides, to the airport. I’ve taken a few people to the airport lately. Those 40 minutes on the RER back from Charles de Gaulle, now that’s a whole different type of thinky train ride. The first thing that happened was I missed my stop, St. Michel Notre Dame. Then, I dazed back to my apartment from métro Luxembourg, fished in my handbag, and PULLED OUT MY METRO CARD instead of punching the doorcode. As in, I stood on the rue Saint Jacques, staring at a large wooden door HOLDING A METRO CARD. What? You don’t accept month passes? I just had to laugh, which felt good on the heels of a goodbye-type afternoon.
So, yes, loads of London pics to upload and caption tonight. In other blog homework news, Nardac has passed me a shoe meme along with expressed concern that I will not “bring it"....As if!
Du pain sur la planche, les enfants.