My first first class

After only an hour wait, we boarded the train. I thought it rather convenient I was positioned in coach 7, the first coach you see when entering the platform, but thought nothing more of it. Until I saw the purser in front of the door. This couldn’t be right, could it? Quickly entering the wagon, convincing myself that yes, indeed, I was in the right place. Checking with the purser. Yes, it is indeed first class. Carefully venturing inward, then quickly heading towards my seat. Don’t want to get thrown out, when people realise their mistake. Nice window seat, plug for my computer, table… Spacious seats, too. This is nice! And then, five minutes in the trainjourney. “Here’s your menu, miss”. Menu? Wait, what? This can’t be free. Checking with my neighbor. Yes, it is indeed free. Uttering small cry of joy. Catching the smile of my fellow passenger. Deciding whether ordering champagne would be too decadent. Settling on white wine. Secretly hoping they take orders twice. Though 187 ml of Mirambeau will certainly do. Do I get that three course menu too? Folding out the rest of the table. Trying not to disturb my neighbour. Glass glasses instead of plastic cups. What class. Snow is flying past on the fields outside. I decide on a film. Got to do something with my spare time, and the wifi isn’t working. Not that I’m complaining. ‘Mr Bean’s Holiday’. Yes, that is something I’ve not seen in ages. Strange metaphysical moment when I see him getting on a Eurostar. Ordering in the buffetcar. Well, I certainly don’t have to do that today. Three course meal, hopefully. Would they wait to serve til they arrive in France? I couldn’t bear to eat without light, let’s hope they don’t serve when we’re in the Chunnel. But even then, I’m not complaining. I should do this every time. What snow, what snow. Is that the three course meal I smell? Salad or pork? Salad, pork is spicy. But first the entrée, of course. When will they take my order? So much food left in my bag. Shouldn’t have bought it, but how did I know. Haven’t even started on my tea. Save that for Belgium? What snow, what snow.

Things always sound better than they really are. The food was good, but turned out to be completely different than I expected. But I liked it, and I liked the second bottle of wine I got. That’s 374 ml altogether. Plus three courses. Plus tea. Plus a mini-chocolate. Plus a bun and butter. And a bottle of water. What food, what food. The Chunnel took longer than expected (and of course they served food in the dark), but now snowy France is all around us. It’s like a fairytale, like a movie, like a big adventure. First class train through snowy surroundings, what more could I wish for Christmas. I feel like I’m on holiday in Austria or Switzerland or one of those other winter countries, but without the commercial aspect of it. Travelling by train is always different from flying or a car, certainly when twilight falls. It’s like riding through a Christmas card, like travelling in good old times. Like the movies and the Transsiberian Express. I expect Porroit to show up any minute now. This is so unreal, so magical, so unlike my life. I am enjoying every minute of it and have never felt like Christmas before. To travel home for Christmas was already something magical, what with the snow falling and everyone so excited (why don’t Belgians get excited over Christmas?). The past week was a wonderful build-up and so far, it has not disappointed. A white Christmas might happen yet, and oh, how I see why people write songs about…