Getting there is half the fun

So we finally got on the train. Not our train but the train before. Our train the 7 15p.m. was going to be even later so we got on the 6 15 which was already 55 minutes late. We were then confronted by a French couple as we were in there seats. They decided it didn’t matter and took two seats across from us. Next to them was an incredibly shy French boy of about 14 and they were joined by a brash American woman who was living in Amsterdam. As we finally got going we all listened willingly or unwillingly to the Americans tale of her trip from Amsterdam that had taken all day, she was off to meet a friend for dinner before the friend left Paris the next morning. As the trip continued we all exchanged friendly conversation and the Belgium beer flowed thanks to our new French friends. The group were keep entertained by the nimble fingered French boy who made fantastic origami before departing to find his parents elsewhere in the carriage. Next to depart was the stressed out American. Our train was growing later and later so she was in danger of missing her dinner date which did little for her mood. She arranged with the French man to carry her heavier suitcase when the train finished. Off she went and the rest of us were left to puzzle over her actions, not for the last time this night.
Finally a little over two hours late we got to Paris Gard de Nord, one of the world’s great stations. Off we got with the French couple and the crazy ladies suitcase. The French couple decided that they would go to collect some reinbursment once they had dropped off the suitcase. They invited us to join them and it seemed like a good idea after the long ride. Problem, no crazy lady. 15 minutes of searching the station later and we still hadn’t found her. Finally she appeared like a whirlwind ranting that he hadn’t understood her and he should have been at the taxi stand (please bear in mind there is one at every exit of this station). Finally with no reinbursment, but at 11:30 we bid farewell to our best friends of the last 4 hours. It’s a strange old world when you end the night kissing the cheek of the person whose seat you stole, but that was the case on the night we travelled from Brussels to Paris.