Okay, so we'd missed the last train to Paris. I felt a bit dejected as normally we fly by the seat of our pants and generally make it with seconds to spare. Not this time. We then are told we can get the train from Frethuan back into Calais Town. We do and the train is empty, we also get a free ride which cheers me up a bit. As we walk out of the station, one of the chaps there tells us there's a TGV to Paris at 6.17 am the next day and we intend to get that. We ...

Well, well, well......after leaving the corruption of Brussels, we head south through what once were the fields of Europe's dreadful Great War. It looks bad enough after a warm summer. God knows what they went through. The northern towns and villages outside of Paris looked similar to our small Welsh hamlets...but upon entering the Paris suburbs...it appears that the devil does indeed make work for idle hands...in this case it's graffiti.....and wecome to all you...