Sun in the south of France: getting here was almost as much fun.
It was raining when we reached Paris but I didn’t mind. After Scotland’s cold apology for summer it was warm, welcoming rain and within minutes of getting off our Eurostar we were clinking glasses of wine in Terminus Nord. If we had come by plane we would still be trying to get out of the airport; instead we are sitting down to a three course meal before catching the next train. So comfortable it is tempting to stay but we are only half way on a 1200 mile journey towards the Spanish border and the best could be yet to come.
This is the way to travel. I had a book in my bag (Alice Walker’s You Can’t Keep a Good Woman Down) but no real intention of opening it. After months of hacking away at the word face all I really wanted to do was look out of the window and watch the miles glide by: buddleia and graffiti marking the way in and out of stations; fields and trees blurring into a soothing green line as the train picked up speed again.
I have no idea how much CO2 we saved by travelling on a train, I simply enjoyed every minute of not being on a plane; none of that nonsense of taking your shoes off coming through security, none of that mind-numbing trek through shopping malls. There are plenty of shops at the new St Pancras Eurostar terminal but they don’t feel as if they are the point of the place.
Ray and I were rediscovering a more human way of travelling, enjoying the journey almost as much as the destination
Perhaps I am perverse, waiting on a station platform is not everyone’s idea of fun, but we were on holiday and Ray had built in stops along the way. To see Jean and David in Oxfordshire we took a detour via Didcot, to visit John and Sue’s amazing adventure in France we got off our comfortable SNCF train at Gourdon. In this small town near Cahors there are lively demonstrations against plans to close the station and all power to the protests!
One of the views that inspired Charles Rennie MacIntosh but you have to get out of the car to see it.
After a week of gentle meandering we reached the Mediterranean where the sun shone on Collioure. Ironically, having travelled all the way by public transport, the one thing we didn’t like about our destination was the constant stream of cars in and out of this otherwise delightful old-fashioned family resort where musicians play every night in a different square.
But by day Collioure is congested. The town car park is permanently full and there are
cars parked on every verge and spare patch of ground. Walking along the busy road from our tiny apartment down to the harbour Ray and I saw cars pull up briefly so tourists could snap the views that inspired Matisse, Derain and our own Charles Rennie MacIntosh. Sometimes they didn’t even bother to get out of the car. If I was mayor I would ban the buggers.
Collioure is beautiful but it could learn from Dubrovnik and Venice: old towns are much more beautiful when you can walk round at a leisurely pace without the noise and smell of traffic.
Rant over. We would go back to Collioure but would look for an apartment in one of the narrow old streets away from cars. And we would definitely go by train. All in all, I reckon we covered 2,500 miles on 11 trains. Plus one tube, two metros, one RER suburban train and one coach – to see Betty in Glinton on the way home we took a Sunday diversion to Peterborough and, of course, UK railways seize up at weekends.
I will now ask Ray for prices and railway booking details…
Almost home: Glinton was our last stop on the return journey to Edinburgh
Much enjoyed your posts from Collioure, was fnautorte to spend several days there, but how fabulous to live there. I couldn’t agree more that spending time in another country does influence how you live when you return home. Or maybe you’re just looking at home differently.
Arlene,
do you think they would accept my senior railcard in the new Russia? Perhaps not for the “luxury tourist train.”
Ray
Okay; beat this.
David and I have just come back to the US after riding the Trans-Siberian Express from Moscow to Vladivostok. 6,000-odd miles and 8 time zones. To be fair, it was a luxury tourist train, not a series of locals, but it was wonderful, anyway. They run the train rather like a cruise ship, with stops at lots of ‘ports’, and some of the travelling done overnight.
A bonus was sitting on a lovely beach just outside Novosibirsk for the total eclipse of the sun. I had no idea there were beaches in Siberia!
How fantastic Rob, this puts train spotting in a new light!
I would be really interested to hear more about long train journeys in exotic places. I was struck by how sociable the passengers were on our trains through France – and isn’t it nice to think of being a passenger instead of a customer?
I know how you feel – I’ve just done a seven hour train journey from Marrakech to Fez, and its very exciting.
Thanks Anny! we’ve only been back a week but already the south of france feels a long time ago.
must get round to blogging about the great Pond Cottage wedding before this week disappears too. we saw the final clear-up yesterday when the yurt was taken away, really sad to see it go and to discover they had just sold it for £12,000!
After a weekend of wedding celebrations at pond cottage, a good dose of wholesomeness is required. So, my first port of call to top up on all that is eco, sustainable, and simply superb where else would you go!? Hope the final clear up operation today wasn’t too laborious. Enjoyed reading about your holiday, seems like a lot of fun and a really great way to explore new places too, leaving me feeling inspired!