Part 2:
London to Brussels Midi on Eurostar
Brussels Midi to Köln HBf on Thalys
To follow:
Köln HBf to Copenhagen on DB CityNightLine
CPH-KEF on Icelandair
KEF-BOS on Icelandair
BOS-PIT on US Airways
So I'm now in London with an afternoon, an evening, and a morning until it's time to catch the Eurostar. In a real break with tradition, I shelled out the cash for a formal tour; normally I dread that sort of thing, but with such short time I wanted to be sure I'd see a few of the London sights. The tour came with a little boat ride on the Thames and a walking tour that I did the next morning. While I don't regret the $44 I spent on it, the random little adventures I had in London were still more fun. Things like riding a real London double-decker bus towards Trafalgar Square -- a free ride, when the fare collector saw that I had 1 quid and 5 quid for a 2 quid ride and waved me onto the bus. Things like having a British fish-and-chips in Leicester Square. Things like wandering through Lillywhites and picking out an FC Celtic jacket (80% off!) to keep me warm in the rest of my time in the north. By the time I got back to Jesmond Dene, it was 10pm and I was exhausted. Good night, world!
The next morning I awoke, enjoyed the hotel's English breakfast, and set out. The changing-of-the-guard walking tour didn't start for an hour and a half, so I hopped on the Underground to visit Abbey Road. Read the graffiti for a little while, my favorite being a love letter from a husband to his wife and an adjacent one written with the same marker -- from her, back to him. Both were plays on Beatles lyrics, with "Karl" telling "Maphine" that he "wants to hold [her] hand... forever" and her responding that "I love you, yeah, yeah, yeah" -- adding that she's still the same girl he fell in love with, 43 years ago! Sadly I had no marker with which to offer my own tribute, but contented myself with a picture next to the Abbey Road sign. The girl who took my picture had a very familiar accent... and I had run into a fellow Pittsburgher, 3000 short miles from home! We laughed about it before I took my leave to catch the Underground back to the tour.
If I have to be on a tour, a walking tour is my first choice. You see so much more than you would on a bus, sitting in traffic and wondering whether the guy in the delivery van will let you past... in this case, just after we'd all taken pictures with a guard, a group of young guys stood close to that same guard, linked arms around each other's shoulders, and started dancing while loudly singing some sort of traditional drinking song. The scene was hilarious, and when the guard finally smiled slightly, the whole group burst into cheers. Ah... London!
By this point it was getting close to noon, and I headed back towards the Tube. Signs had been everywhere on the Underground warning that drinking on the trains would be forbidden starting June 1st. That wasn't for another 36 hours -- so I rode along, quenching my thirst with a British shandy I'd picked up at Eat. Tasty, actually, and a bit reminiscent of the Radler I'd tried in Germany.
In London, the Eurostar and other international trains are handled by a special international wing of St Pancras train station. The interior is modernised and quite attractive; the wait for my train passed quickly, and I soon found myself in my 1st-class seat.
It is difficult to overstate how much I loved this part of the trip. The Eurostar left on time in an almost silent gathering of speed as we admired the British countryside through its wide, clean picture windows and sipped champagne. And the food! This being an afternoon train, Eurostar served its experimental new Afternoon Tea service. The service consisted of three organic sandwiches (one egg-and-mayo and the other two based on salmon, all delicious), a scone with clotted cream and jam, fresh strawberries, and a Victoria sponge cake with fresh redcurrants. Champagne was topped up, and tea (of course!) was also served. Did I mention this was served on porcelain and glass, with real utensils?
Service was likewise attentive and professional, even in dealing with a very challenging passenger seated near me. She had started her trip with an "I hate trains!" and went downhill from there during the Chunnel crossing, but the staff made time to deal with her and prevent her from going completely haywire. She turned down the staffer's proffered sedative (!) but responded well to another top-up or two of champagne and some soothing words. The staff saved her trip, and in doing so probably also saved mine. Good work.
This brought me to Brussels Midi. My pocket was not picked (though I was careful and observant), but that's about the extent of the praise I can give that station. Got on the Thalys, which was also on time; how to summarize it? I suppose I'd say that the Thalys is everything that the Eurostar is, only less so. It was luxurious, sort of; the food was decent, but not as memorable; the countryside flew past, but did so through dirty windows. The rail car itself was dirty and had a broken hand dryer in the restroom. I'd wondered beforehand if the Eurostar's higher prices indicated anything or whether the Thalys was simply a bargain. In retrospect, I got what I paid for.
After my adventures in Köln HBf itself (where I learned about random German passport checks...) and a bit of a wait, I boarded the CityNightLine train. Yes, Deutsche Bahn was late -- believe it or not! In fairness, it was pouring down rain and we were only about 10 minutes behind leaving Köln. Stepped into my room, placed my order for the next morning's coffee and wakeup time, received a little bottle of champagne from the conductor, and took my shower. This required creativity: the shower switched off automatically every 30 seconds or so, and the water was lukewarm at best. Perhaps a way to keep people from using the train's water supply for lengthy showers? Regardless, it still felt great after a long day's travels, and I went to bed refreshed.
By the time the gentle alarm beep went off at 7 am, I was already awake; the conductor came to my door shortly after to ask if I was ready for breakfast, but I was shaving. He returned in five minutes to fold up the bed and set a table for breakfast. The repast was simple, but tasty: two thin slices of pork, a roll, a croissant, coffee, orange juice, and yogurt. In essence it was the more elaborate of the two DB breakfast boxes, plus the pork and the yogurt. Rested and refreshed, I watched the final leg of the journey as we pulled into Copenhagen. Next: time to figure out the Copenhagen system.