Journey to England

This time I travelled to England by public transport, for ecological reasons and because petrol is so expensive.

i don't like rising before the sun, but the autocar leaves Jonzac at 7:30 and the taxi-driver wanted to allow plenty of time to get there. He didn't actually need that much so I had a long wait for the 'car, but by then it was light and warm, and I had a book (China Mieville's excellent short stories).

The 'car arrived at Angouleme station in time to see the connecting train to Lille, the train I would have booked if I hadn't had a wheelchair. The station staff went into panic, thinking I wanted to get on it and not having time to get me across the tracks. Such relief when I told them I was getting the next train, three hours later. One day there will be a lift at Angouleme, and I shall be able to get to the platform by myself and save three hours' journey time. The lift is promised by completion of the line upgrade, sometime before 2016; of course, before that the TGV will be going as far as Saintes and I shan't need to travel to Angouleme.

One of the new TGV trains came through. Plush! Double-decker, but for me its best feature is the entrances: level with the platforms, and a small automatic bridge at each door, covering the gap. No need for Assistance at all! One has to wonder why trains haven't always been designed to fit the platforms; or platforms designed to fit the trains. It's not only crips and ski-ing accidentees who have trouble with those high steps: I've watched quite a few people struggling with luggage.

Though not on one of the new trains, the ride to Paris passed quickly, between admiring the view and reading more Mieville. Paris was rather warm. I'd planned a long gap before catching the Eurostar, just in case, and decided to use some of it to look at the Seine and Notre Dame, just around the corner from where I change buses. It was lovely, but April in Paris... is full of tourists.

I still had over an hour before needing to be at the Gare du Nord, but I thought the cafes around there might be less crowded than near Notre Dame. The second bus goes through a poorer part of the city and is consequently more heavily used, but people are always very good about squashing up, finding a space, and helping me get on board. Good thing I went early. Three stops later, the bus driver announced that we all had to get off because the police had closed the road on account of a demonstration.

No choice but to set off up the road and keep looking for a taxi. Taxis passed, but they were all full. Eventually I asked a shopkeeper how much further to the Gare - at least half an hour. I was tired, and hot. There were people waiting for a bus: I stopped to find out if they had news, and they suggested I get the bus with them to the Gare de l'Est and find a taxi there. The plan worked even better, because a woman who got off the bus at the same time told me that the Gare du Nord was not far and insisted on pushing the wheelchair up the (slight) hill, while her 7-year-old son asked questions about England.

The so-dangerous demonstration was, it seemed, a few people with a placard. Ah well.

As usual, the Eurostar was well-sorted for a wheelchair-user, and this trip I'd been lucky enough to get the space in Business Premier, which comes with a very pleasant lounge. There I accepted a drink and fired up the laptop, but didn't have chance to use the wifi because the all the time was taken up in conversation with an interesting and amusing Texan and Argentinian couple.

At St Pancras I tried unsuccessfully to buy a ticket for the new route via Stratford International, then was too tired to attempt to get to Liverpool Street by bus, so taxi it was. A friendly taxi-driver and helpful staff at Liverpool Street and Ipswich eased the last stage of the journey, though it's disappointing that the long-promised lift at Ipswich hasn't yet been built (opening at the end of May, apparently).

Finally I coasted down the hill to Sophie's and the first cup of tea of the day.