Are we there yet? YES, we are! (Now stop hitting your sister)

Guess what? I'm in Oxford. That's right, the city of dreaming spires. I'm writing from the computer room at Central Backpackers where I'll be staying for the next 10 days or so (the hostel, not the computer room).

I left my aunt's husband's house yesterday, inhumanly early in the morning I might add. Aunt refuses to drive into Paris because it's easy to get lost, hard to park and the traffic is very bad. I don't know how true it might be at the time we decided to set out.

Instead, we took the train which conveniently left us right at the international station, Paris Gare du Nord. Just imagine, an older woman and chubby little me pulling on The Monster (a.k.a. My Suitcase) while being crushed by a computer bag and a "handbag" that weighed a ton each. We manage to make a few guys pity us so at least someone else handled the stairs for us. I had put on my nicest top which brings out my bosom rather well. Alas, it also brings out my love handles but I was counting on the bosom part getting and keeping the attention anyway. Not to say it wasn't hard work anyway.

Still, we got to Gare du Nord at least an hour early. It was lucky we did, you need all the extra time you can get in order to check in with Eurostar. There were a lot of people inside the station and it's not like at the airport where checking in takes forever but you do need to be in the line at least an hour early instead of the 30mins they say. I had just the time to go to the rest room, which were really clean btw, I was surprised, and have a coffee before I had to queue for the check in.

I had to get my bags all the way to the train on my own. This was the hard part because everyone was busy finding their wagons and relatives who aren't travelling can't accompany you to the train. I accidentally climbed into the wrong wagon. There was a nice Dutch man who helped me lift the suitcase in then out again. He was also in the wrong wagon. I hurried to the right one and for some reason he didn't offer to help me again. So, I pulled it up half way before another guy figured I had blocked the entrance long enough. I was all red and sweaty and so not sexy anymore. Also, stinky.

The woman next to me was a professor of history of dance in the U.S. She wasn't very friendly actually. She made it pretty clear that she was very annoyed at not having both seats to herself.

The trip itself went smoothly. It's an incredibly fast train and the view is fairly decent the whole way but then, the French countryside is always gorgeous. There was no warning when we got to the tunnel so for five minutes I thought "Is this it? Or are we just going under some city incoveniently on our way?". After a while I figured we had to be in the tunnel because it was taking forever. I know, I'm a little slow on the uptake. It was dark for a very long time. Not as exciting as expected but then, it never is, is it?

And just like that I was in England.

I got down in London and oh disapointment! the door I took to go get a taxi didn't lead the front way where the pretty Harry Potter facade is. I couldn't take any pictures of it. Still, the taxi ride to Victoria Coach Station was exciting in itself. I couldn't look fast enough! I'll go back and visit as soon as I can.

Things were just as easy at the coach station. Got my ticket at student price, boarded 5 mins after and rode in a very comfy bus all the way to Gloucester Green station right here in Oxford. It was a bit of a hassle pulling The Monster to the hostel. The afternoon was fairly hot as I was walking and I had my jean jacket so more huffing and puffing and then... it hailed! I kid you not! One moment I'm sweating and the next I have mini-ice cubes falling on my head.
A second later, it was done.
English weather is really fucked up.