£6.80 for a double espresso and an americano was to be expected. There was no flat white option for Sancho but she remained upbeat. Likely because that seasoned traveller had quite legitimately snaffled, if snaffling can ever really be legitimate, a bag of pastries, cheese and bananas from the travelodge buffet breakfast. Admirably economic but also denying me the opportunity to see if French train croissants are more French than their British equivalent.
The train coffee was of course poor, but not diabolique. Unlike my French, which proved inferior to the English of a three year-old French child sitting opposite. The Eurostar coffee does come with a complimentary chocolate though. Dark, of course. We are in their territory now.
In the train cafe, 3 French women breakfasted on coffee, croissants and miniature bottles of cava. At 10.30 am.
This was nearly two hours later than I have often witnessed their Scottish equivalents partaking on the express out of Glasgow Central. And those ladies always have at least one big bottle, often pink. That does sound a little judgmental from someone stretched out on their side, uploading photographs clandestinely.
L
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