It was a five-train journey to get down here. That's an awful lot of connections, with an equal number of chances for problematic delays.
The inevitable happened. Someone (of the sort whose attitude I will never understand) thought it was a good idea to throw a missile of some heavy description at our second train. That missile smashed a window and that took a while to get sorted out.
The leisurely 45 minutes we should have had to get from Euston to St Pancras became 12 minutes, which was cutting it fine in the extreme. My intention to walk the distance between the two stations (because I've long been of the opinion that you walk almost as far through tunnels to catch the tube between those stations as you'd walk along the road) had to be abandonned and we positively legged it up and down stairs and escalators.
We made it to our next train a touch out of breath and with a whole 90 seconds to spare.
The rest of the journey was rather less eventful - until just outside of Dover when I caught sight of the cliffs and the sea and immediately became as excited as a child going to the seaside for the first time.
Under fine skies, which we hope will persist into tomorrow, it was a half-hour stretch of the legs (up hill - who threw hills in before the walk has even started?), past the impressive looking Dover castle (wish we'd travelled yesterday now so we could have spent the day exploring) to get to our accommodation for the night, where we are now ensconced ready for the off in the morning.
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