EUROSTAR: THE TUNNEL

 

Recent Mourning- 3 months- Recent Mourning 3 months.

Reached out on line by a Sicilian married couple- they were planning their annual holidays.

Full of sorrow for me-  I first met them in 1993.

Quite well off both of them. Despite their daily complaints.

Their daily work routine stress- no kids. Only trips- long ones-

 

Connected to a pathetic video conference call to share their ‘’sorrow’’.

Very sweet language- on her side- as usual- poor you! Poor thing!

Very sympathetic attitude. Poor thing!

 

Join us Silviiiiiii join us Silviiii!

Your journey will be much shorter than ours! Theirs lasted 4 weeks.

La Normandie!  Final destination for me. Not for them.

Very cheap train ticket.

King’s Cross International station.

Modern train – fully packed train- mainly Indians.

Indians- families- couples- solo travellers.

Their target: France.

The adventure under the tunnel- Euro tunnel.

A small home-made sandwich for me- ruck sack- fuscia trolley. Pinky type colour

Smooth train trip- not high speed- no rush!

An Indian single man was sitting next to me.

Strong smell of Indian food up and down- left and right-North and South- East and West.

Took a handy deodorant from my bag----------sprayed everywhere on my wagon.

 

I checked my watch- All of a sudden, I opened my eyes- all dark inside- Eurotunnel.

We were under the Tunnel- such an emotion!

 

 

Bienvenues en France! Weather forecast. Checked a second time my watch- 3 minutes- 1 ahead

my watch and mobile phone- CET.

The smell of Indian food slowly vanished. Grabbed a coffee- very sleepy.

Arrived at platform 6- Paris-

Remarked that 90% of the French railways staff was black!  I was struggling to see a white face.

Admiring the French countryside through the windows train, closing my eyes from time to time.

 

Met the Sicilian couple (they rented a car), kisses and hugs-

‘’silviiii are you still alive’’? My ‘’relaxation’’ started.

Compared to that trip, a short one as usual, even the London office was calm and serene.

She organized every single move- when to eat- where- why- when to go to the toilet- when

to talk and about what!

 

Ruck sack- hotel breakfast-

I did not quite realised that it was the end of a friendship for GOOD!

Too sympathetic- too fake-

Criticism started soon- in my panorama- to my clothes- my shoes- my skin- my life -my opinions – my all!

My rucksack and small pink trolley more than anything.

She managed to envisage my future diseases in my life ahead! Or at least that what she thought.

No one single coffee treats from her side.

 

One morning the ugly nurse husband went to an expensive leather shop in Rouen, pure leather-

Occitan products for his skin.

Visits of the famous and beautiful Rouen Cathedral – 3 famous castles in Normandie.

 

At noon she decided ( we maybe), that we had to eat in a typical French restaurant, French cuisine.

Checked the menu- I did understand the language- but, I did not understand what sort of dishes!

Prices a bit high.

She was the only one who wanted to speak French- unbearable French.

The waiter came after 30 minutes- in French asked if we were ready to order.

She was annoyed- ‘’it is me who has to speak French’’. She said.

He said that they had issues with the English language- but they could speak it.

 

She was full clear maps- clear straight routes on where to go when and why.

Maps full of pathways to villages- 10 minutes and rush.

We visited a beautiful, astonishingly beautiful French village on the sea. I was breathing deeply

far from her.  

People actually lived there- mostly elderly- opened the small windows-

‘’Vous allez aimer – adorer’’!

 

I had to recognize that the village was wonderful. Plants- flowers- medieval homes-

Purchased a postcard to my father and shipped from there.

D- Day postcard- debarquerment en Normandie.

 

I was increasingly desperate by her arrogance- though- the landscape compensated that.

 

Last dinner before leaving- I got so annoyed that I grabbed her hair and dragged her on the

narrow French pavement.

On the way back home I started thinking deeply: she never really liked me, perhaps not- they I should say……….

That thought was confirmed 1 week later.

Too much sorrow!

I could not show myself- my way in no occasion, no with them! They knew what to do I did not!

My way not accepted.

On my journey back to the UK- I could not see anything, neither feel the Tunnel- as I did 4 days

earlier, you ‘’taste’ ’you enjoy – the anticipation of enjoyment- Therefore you see- you smell-

you hear- …...end of the story!

 

 

September 2017