Yesterday, while typing this entry, I was sitting on the Thalys train enraptured by the French countryside passing me by at high speeds. When I first got on the train, I pulled out my novel to read the final chapter, however, that turned into a rather difficult task, given all the greenery and windmills and ancient churches grasping for my attention, and it really didn’t take all that long before it was completely stolen.
But here’s the thing, I was the furthest from the window, and for about 90 per cent of the not quite two-hour trip, the fellow next to me had his head back, eyes closed, chest lightly heaving up and down, same with the woman across from him, and even Mario for a stretch there was conked out. And even though I had a pretty decent view from where I was sitting, it was somewhat tarnished by the two snoring heads in the foreground. And I’m not all up on train travel etiquette, but you’d think, if you were gonna waste a view like that by catching some Zs, you’d at least offer to sit in the seat with the lesser view and let the girl, whose eyes were glued to that window almost from the get-go, the window seat. Just saying …
We were a little stressed heading out to the train station as there wasn’t a guarantee we’d get on. With the strike, we were told they’d honour our Monday tickets on Sunday and Tuesday. We opted for Sunday, just in case they decided to continue striking into Tuesday (which turned out to be a good thing, as the guy in the information booth in Brussels advised a woman to head out to the airport that night, even though she wasn’t flying until Tuesday because he “couldn’t guarantee his colleagues would be back to work on Tuesday.”) We didn’t have reserved seats … we even had to wait until the doors of the train closed before we could find seats to sit in, making sure not to take any of the reserved seating. And the fellow next to me, you know, the one who was snoring his little head off, was NOT one who had reserved seating. But I digress …
From the minute I opened up my laptop on the train, Mario (who was now awake) had been intently staring into my eyes willing me to stop typing, and then staring down into the white boxed container, and then back up into my eyes. Tartellete? he silently asked with those pleading eyes of his. Tartelette indeed 😀
The last crumbs of our Paris trip.
1 thought on “Train travel tact”
New coat???? Then I read Mario’s blog and yes it is, very nice indeed!!!!!
Harvey says Belgium is where you get really great food, let us know!!!