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.