When the journey is worth the trip

I am back from Paris since yesterday night. I went there for business. I already blogged about it a few minutes ago. I took the Eurostar. A detail you might know about me: I like neither London nor Paris. Some places in these cities I love, but they are not my village. But as you might also know about me, I love train travels and never get tired of them. And, while I sometimes dreaded my short stay in Paris, I thoroughly enjoyed my time on the train on my way to London and then on the Eurostar. Even on the way back when it was getting late and I was tired. I managed to read a lot more than I do during a normal day and the journey was comfortable, far more comfortable than with most other means of transportation anyway (maybe not the boat, but I did not use the boat enough to give a good comparison). And the distance is relatively short between London and Paris. It gives you enough time to read plenty, but not too long as to get bored. I guess what matters really is to have a good book or two. On the way back, I stopped in the canteen wagon for a few minutes and looked at the window. Not the most beautiful scenery, but through from a train in motion going at high speed it has a certain charm. I thought that this was, this is, the way to travel.