Breakfast in Paris, dinner in Thirsk

Au revoir to Paris, and off to the Gare du Nord to take the Eurostar again - such a convenient way to travel, once the pre-boarding scrum is past (made more complicated this time by travelling with a bicycle - don't ask). Efficient, comfortable, pleasant cheesy snack with wine, pretty scenery...

And then the Victorian splendour of St Pancras, and over the road a soaring modern extension to King's Cross where still they come to queue for a photo with the luggage trolley stuck into the wall below the sign Platform 9 3/4.

More efficiency on the East Line, skimming past wheat fields scattered with patches of poppies, church spires, wind turbines and sinister nuclear power stations. We got off in York, to wrestle our suitcases along the narrow pavements to Hertz, momentarily diverted by a flock of teenage geese wandering insouciantly along the street, holding up the traffic.

Then on the road, through green and leafy countryside, past signs to villages with silly names, to reunite with old friends in their new old house, like Tardis with doors and staircases in unexpected places. Wood and stained glass and Aga and radiators and low doorways.

And finally to the Carpenter's Arms for dinner: a lovely old pub with beams, fireplaces and a row of handles at the bar, which featured Old Mout cider mats. From New Zealand.