Every first journey starts the same way, with an inspiration. A motivation to see, to do, touch, feel, taste something. Something unexplored, something that gets into your mind and instead of leaving, a seed is planted and starts to grow and before you know it, you are following an uncharted path. Firsts are fun, they often leave a lasting impression, and they are the memories that remain.
And so it was that I traveled to London from Paris for the first time by train. It started by booking my ticket on this train called a “Eurostar”. Even the name “Eurostar” was exciting and unfamiliar like some sci-fi vessel that offered the promise of entering a new world! I clicked through the site, and purchased the tickets I wanted, and immediately received a confirmation: “You are booked to London”. It was so easy.
Could it be this easy to see London for the first time? I couldn’t wait.
Now for those of you who know me, being in Paris, is truly my dream come true. No matter how many days I stay, or times I go, it’s never enough. Usually mid-trip, I start to feel the pull of not wanting to let go. It’s so beautiful in Paris, it’s always hard to leave and always wonderful to return to. However, when I planned to go from Paris to London, I was so excited, it made letting go of Paris just a bit easier.
I remember getting up and out early that morning… the streets of Paris were quiet, wet, and the city at that time of day feels more like a place where people live, rather than a destination that travelers visit. My Uber took me to Gare du Nord, which had woken up with people sooner than the city around it. Gare du Nord. I snapped a picture. I wanted to remember. I wanted to remember what it felt like to leave Paris. To travel by train from the city I loved to a city of discovery. A place that held so much history, yet would be brand new to me –and I couldn’t wait to drink it all in.
Hello Eurostar to London.
I entered the station and felt the immensity of a place where so many journeys began and ended. I glanced at the clock and saw I had time to grab an espresso and a croissant to bring onto the train. Then I made my way to board. Walking down the platform, knowing I was steps from getting on the train, I felt a joy. The joy of embarking on a new journey.
About halfway through the trip, I looked at the GPS on my phone and saw that I was in the channel, under the water, just about mid-point between the 2 land masses. It was a fun moment. I snapped a screenshot on my phone. I wanted to remember.
We entered the UK. Nearing London and St. Pancras Station, my mood grew more alert. I watched the tracks and listened to the quiet of the train as it pulled into the station. I stepped down the stairs that seemed a touch too high and started to make my way down the platform. This initial visit, I didn’t see the beautiful welcoming clock that hung high above. (It wouldn’t be until later trips that I saw it and realized this.)
So, there I was. And there I was, soaking it all in. I was there to learn, to explore a new city on my own, to see whatever it was I would see. I wanted to hear the voice and see the sights of London.
It was a short trip; just a taste, but it was a good start, and I understood what made London ever-so-smart. It was a place that made me want to return to again. But, in that moment then, I was on my way back to Paris. But before I headed to my track …
Hello, St. Pancras.
Hello, clock to check the time. Hello café where I ordered a tea and a crumpet this time, to bring onto the train…
Hello, Eurostar back to Paris.
And just like that I was on my way back in time for dinner.
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