Home at Last

I can't tell you how good it feels to look out of my train window and see the fields and villages of France pass by . Call me sentimental , but I confess that as we emerged from' le tunnel sous la manche' a few minutes ago, I had to fight back a tear. In spite of spending three very pleasant weeks in Britain visiting old friends ,relations and familiar haunts, it feels good to return. Our Eurostar train is on time, and if all goes well , driver Mohammed will pick us up from Montpelier station around 8.30 p.m. and we should be home before ten. That is a nice thought.

The scene outside my window(above) is not terribly beautiful . So what is it about this image that moves me and is so iconic to France? Vast unfenced fields of agricultural land; low lying compact villages nestling in the hollows ; a church spire standing proud, or maybe two; and row upon row of tall poplar trees , still green at this time of year. This is so typical of northern France. Aeolians turn on hilltops like stately giants, and I know that they will follow us the length of France. Of this, I believe France should be rightly proud. As I continue to gaze out of my window the fields begin to fold into small wooded hillsides, interspersed with pretty villages. Before long we will be speeding down the Rhône Valley , and heading towards the limestone cliffs and gorges of home. I can't wait.

But my mind is still full of the sights and sounds of London , where we have been staying for the last three nights. This is where we were married, one chilly day in November , forty nine years ago, the only witnesses being two friends and a small boy with his 'guy' as he stood outside Paddington Registry Office, collecting money for Guy Fawkes . So much has changed since then. Here are some of my impressions of London as it is today.

A Transformed skyline

Everywhere we looked we saw sky scrapers: huge residential blocks where its residents seem to live amongst the clouds; weird and wonderfully shaped buildings like 'The Shard'; or varied clusters of tall buildings as in Canary Wharf. Cranes still dominate overhead, as if every last space of ground must be filled .

But London is a historic city. As we walked the streets of Central London we saw many fine and graceful historic buildings. We visited the Courtauld Gallery which is housed in part of Somerset House, a vast complex which would rival Fontainebleau.

Many of London's older railway stations are fine to behold too.

But London is much more than a collection of buildings. Its vast, diverse population is buzzing with life. We stayed in a lively pub, 'The Victoria' in Peckham and were immensely cheered by the friendliness and diversity that we saw around us.

Scenes from Peckham

Reflections on our Journey:

Now that we are back home in France we have time to reflect on our travels . First and foremost I have been overwhelmed by the ease and efficiency of rail travel. Watching the countryside of France, England and Wales speed by our carriage windows has given us enormous pleasure, and we can't wait to do it again. Perhaps our slow, ponderous journey through the heart of Wales, from Swansea to Shrewsbury, was the most memorable. All the train services we have used, have been pleasant to use, and efficient. In spite of the terrible tales we have heard about British railways, every train we have taken there has been on time. I just wish that they would discourage train passengers in Britain from talking on their mobile phones. In France this can only be carried out in the space between the carriages, and journeys are tranquil. Noise cancelling ear phones ,however ,are a must in Britain! It feels so good to have spent a holiday in this way. As our train manager said over the intercom as we approached Montpellier, "you have enjoyed the most ecological form of transport that there is." I hope the railways go from strength to strength. Next stop Italy?