Not wanting to fly to much this year we thought we’d go to Spain (Valencia to be precise) by train.

Stage 1: Getting the Eurostar to Paris. Via the Business Premier Lounge at St Pancras (cheers Lucy!), the entering of which was not unlike how I imagine the ascent to heaven to be, complete with St Peter with a mid-atlantic accent and an Agnes B suit.

Étage 2: A leisurely afternoon in Paris in the rain, eating bad meat, wandering round the Pompidou, that sort of thing.

Étage 3: Paris to Barcelona on the sleeper ‘Trenhotel’. It’s great, though I wouldn’t have the microwaved carbonara again if it was the last food on Earth. A load of wine and a sound night’s sleep in our couchette for 2 and you’re woken up for breakfast as the northern Spanish countryside rolls by.

Stage 4 (my spanish is shit): An hour in Barcelona França station before the train leaves for Valencia. Mainly being psyched out by the shitting pigeons overhead.

Arrive in Valencia!

And here it is:

Created with flickrSLiDR.

The Barcelona return leg is to follow.