Londres overnight.

I am sitting here on the train to London like a dullard, but at least I am plugged in so I can type to you. The reason I am a dullard is because I left my headphones at my apartment. Thank goodness I dropped the 25 Euros on this international plug. This is also the first time I am writing at a proper desk as I am here on the Eurostar, which left ONTIME! (take notes USA). It is also insanely quiet and quite lux. I am in business class its not the norm but, commuters in and out of NY have no idea what they are missing, unless they are more well traveled than I am, which isn't too difficult.

Um, get this. I have champagne, Its normal here. It isn't Veuve or anything, (Pannier Brut to be exact, but it is a wonderful way to travel.) And the seat is too big. I am sitting Indian style and have room on both sides, but I am not complaining. I can't believe the website said this train was full as there is one person per row, evenly distributed of course.

A minute brilliance, packing my adapter.

While bulleting through the farmland they are harvesting at 9:30 at night, as the sun is still up. Talk about productivity, it must only be the farmers with super strong work ethics, or maybe its because the are owned by Germano-American agriconglomerates, but hey. Here the DNA is still intact. Genetic modification is a no, no.

Just passed Haute Picardie and a cool windfarm was becoming all blinky, and all the blinks were synchronized on the gloaming french countryside.

For dinner aboard the train I will have the filet mignon. I could have the trout souffle de Sud-ouest France with crayfish cream sauce, sauteed spinach butter and grilled tomato with emmental cheese instead, but I am not the biggest fish fan.

Yes that is my mini bottle of Burgundy.

I was lucky enough to sit next to two bankers, one working for a British bank in France, and one Australian who was in London, but was originally a Kiwi, but has since moved to Australia. She works for B&B, which is probably the name of a bank that I know, but they are talking derivatives, market properties and fah fi fah. I am watching them through the reflection in the windows. He is going to get her a taxi once we arrive in London.

I am getting quite the thrill looking out the window and typing to you, glad that I can do so without looking. Wahoo, french keyboards finally taught me how to type! Have you seen a french keyboard? Google it, they are BIZARRE, I mean, different.

These two in the foreground are the bankers, she a bit older in beige, he to the left, upon arrival at St. Pancras Station.