Tuesday 29 January 2019. Day 244 / 20

Home again. La B and I left her flat together at 7, she wanted to get to work early so she could come home earlier, my train wasn't until 8:30 but I thought I'd rather put her on her train and relax and enjoy breakfast in Basel Hauptbahnhof.

A wonderful, empty face. Shame it's out of focus. On the train I shouldn't have been on.

Not the quiet carriage. They're all frantically reclaiming tax.

In a Basel shop window. They're very creative with their windows.

It was the tiles

Entrance to the Realschule on Muehlenberg, Basel

the bankers?

Got to Paris on time (accompanied by a coachload of Chinese who got on at Mulhouse and then assembled around their fuhrer, who decided to sit next to me, and then proceeded to spend most of the journey processing tax refund forms from members of his party). They were all right really, smiley and chatty.

So the train wasn't "delayed by weather" as threatened by SNERF the night before, and we pulled in to Gare du Lyon at 11:40 precisely. I then checked carefully, as La B had insisted it only took her half an hour to get from there to Montparnasse. It took 20 minutes just to get on to a moving metro, with no delays, and I didn't get onto my train at Montparnasse until 12:25. Anyway, found my seat, occupied by a single dad and small child, so I stowed my bags and found an empty seat nearby, and then hopped off the train to walk down the platform to get myself a coffee and something to eat from the restaurant car. Doors shut. Foolishly I didn't react, but I'm not sure it would have made  any difference if I had. Then tried to open the door to get back on the train, cried, wept, screamed blue murder, but the conductrice said she could do nothing, so eventually I let go of the train (did think briefly of inserting myself in the gap between carriages). Conductrice was very apologetic and kind and telephoned the train while I panicked in French and tried to describe where and what my luggage, hat, coat, shoulder bag looked like. Then went off to buy another ticket, she came and helped me, and weirdly although it didn't leave until 14:01 it got to Poitiers only 40 minutes after the train I'd missed. And the ticket only cost €40, which was a relief, even if that turned out to be one of the more expensive Americanos and jambon beurres I've bought. And Starbucks coffee is shite, I can't believe they dare sell it.

retrieved all my stuff from a nice SNERF madame in Poitiers, who just confirmed I was English, and I confirmed I was also foolish, and M-KA met me and took me home. 

Lit stove, all warm and cosy. Bed, if not sleep, early.

Back to the grindstone.

A lesson in detachment and how undetached I really am - so many things I would have missed. And the latest edition of Metanoia, on my laptop, all gone. Eurchh.