Somewhere on a train between Paris and Brussels...

[rebecca_in_blue]

I'm on the train from Paris to Brussels now. I like traveling by train. It reminds me of that great scene in A Hard Day's Night with The Beatles in their train compartment with that grouchy old man. "Don't take that tone with me, young man. I fought the war for your sort." "I'll bet you're sorry you won." Trains also let you enjoy the scenery. The trip here was so beautiful. The train drove through the forest that surrounds Villers-Cotterets, and I had a window seat to see the silver dew and frost on the green grass, the flaming red and orange leaves on the trees, the delicate purple mist hanging in the air where the trees weren't so thick. It was like something you would read about in a Robert Frost poem.

I had to leave the lycee at seven this morning (and even then I was late and had to wait another hour for the next train to Paris), and I was in such a rush that I forgot my iPod. Too bad, because I'd really like to listen to "On the Atchison, Topeka, and the Santa Fe," with Judy Garland, a great song about train travel. Another one is "Hey Porter," by Johnny Cash, but I don't have that one on my iPod.

I had a fantastic dream last night, but I will write about that later. I'm going to put this away now so I can enjoy more of the scenery. Also because writing in the train gives me a little headache.

[Transcribed from my paper journal.]