Take the E Train

As for returning by train, it was a perfectly lovely experience.

IMA couldn't book a train from UK so I did it myself, and rather more efficiently than they had on the London-bound journey, bless 'em, as they'd never booked wheelchair-space before and had simply ordered a leisure select ticket (expensive, and my seat had to be changed anyway).

The only trouble with booking wheelchair-space is that there aren't many per train (2 or 3) and they can refuse to let you travel on your chosen train if there are already the stipulated number of wheelchairs aboard. On the other hand, it's leisure select or premier only and it's at a lovely cheap price. I picked an unfrequented train to London just after rush-time; the staff at Ipswich were very pleasant and helpful and everything went smoothly.

The taxi between stations (wheelchair into underground does not go) was booked by IMA, and very silly it was too: a whole huge Mercedes minibus to myself. Pity about the noise from some local radio station playing through the flashy speakers.

It's the first time I've left from St Pancras International; I halted just inside, looking for signage. A lurking member of staff pounced. "Good morning! How are you today?" "Hello! Confused!" "Don't worry, you don't need to be confused, Hakim is looking after you." And so he did, taking my ticket and doing all the machine-necessities and guiding me through to baggage-scanning and passport control. With childhood experiences of travel lurking in my subconscious, I have to suppress an urge to tip, and I was reminded of my mother's shock and annoyance on her return to England to find that there were no porters on railway stations. Mama, they're back!

When I booked the Eurostar to Lille I'd gone for a cheap one, not just to save money but because they're usually less crowded. In fact, though the Paris train was packed out, this train to Bruxelles via Lille was not. I had an entire premier carriage to myself, with attendants who told me I could make as much noise as I liked, and then asked if I gave singing lessons ("Yes, but not in London, sorry."). They offered newspapers and drinks and magazines: I took The Economist and an orange juice (real squeezed orange juice) which was accompanied by a glass of water with lemon and ice. Lunch was delicious, the sort of thing that airline meals aspire to and miss.

You might think all this was horribly extravagant. It can certainly be expensive at peak times, even on the reduced take-your-own-chair fare. On this under-used businesspeople's train in August, it cost £33. Ahhh.

And then a taxi all the way to Wailly-Beaucamp, arranged by IMA. The driver also had some radio station blasting, and guess what: the first song was the same as the last song playing in the London taxi! It symbolised the whole joined-up journey.

M. Wallon, highly recommended

It didn't go according to plan, but all is well now.

Eventually M. Wallon drove up to Boulogne to demand the Right Parts in person; he was unsuccessful and returned with the news that the parts could be another fortnight in arriving. He was due to take his annual holiday the following week, so it would mean at least another four weeks before the car was ready!

M. Wallon is a star. He went round the local breakers' yards and found almost all the necessary bits (though not a hubcap), and built it all. He also attempted to charge the battery three times, but it was dead; a new battery was obtained. He checked all the other wheels carefully and tightened up the other rear wheel which was also a bit loose (eek! doesn't bear thinking about), and pumped up the tyres which he said were very low. So much for getting the wheels and tyres checked in a tyre-place before I left England, eh?

He finished the repairs on the Friday evening before closing the garage until September. IMA called me to say they would book a flight to Paris for Monday, which I declined because it's a long way to Stanstead at this end and a long way from Paris at the other, and we agreed Tuesday by train. M. Wallon, fortunately for me, was holidaying at home. He came out to open up the garage specially. What a lovely man.

If you are ever in the southern Pas-de-Calais/Somme area and need some garage-y work done, it's SARL GUY WALLON, Agent Station Renault Elan, in Wailly-Beaucamp on the RN1. Say hello from me.

Not quite there and back again

The parts arrived for the repair of the car, but they were the Wrong Parts.

Meanwhile, there was somewhat of a disaster in the family, and I was desperate to return to them. The breakdown company (Autonational Rescue), or rather the agents of their French counterpart (IMA) were wonderful, in particular Indra who was dealing with my case: she arranged for me to get back to England by taxis and trains, leaving the car with M. Wallon.

Family disasters have improved now, and, provided that the Right Parts have arrived chez M. Wallon, I should be able to collect the car next week and continue the interrupted journey to Charente Maritime.

Now, this accident report from for the insurance company... I don't suppose anyone knows the name of the tyre place in Norwich where I had the wheels and tyres checked before ALUG Narchpubmeet? No? And I didn't get the names of the gendarmes: not that they seemed at all worried about reports, so even if the insurance company try to contact them there may not be much information. I don't think they even asked for my name - they just sorted everything out and were hugely helpful and supportive and then disappeared like Lone Rangers.