Just after 0600, and we're back at St Pancras having another Greggs breakfast (really, we think these are excellent, and the queues that build up obviously mean that others agree).



And then we're ready to go.

I don't know what to call our next little adventure. Maybe the Four-Island Foray? It's going to be a loop (ie, we return to Britain), and it's the first European circle we've done since the Lisbon Loop, which we managed to complete in 2020 just before you-know-what laid waste to all subsequent travel plans for a very long while.

The four islands of the Four-Island Foray are (we hope) going to be Corsica, Sardinia, Sicily, and Malta. And then there'll be a quick blat through Europe in order to return to the non-Schengen shores of Great Britain before we outstay our 90-day welcome.

Anyway, today is the very beginning. First stop: Paris. We haven't properly spent time in Paris since 2019, when we were on our way to Baku. We overnighted on the way to and from the Lisbon Loop, and last year we galloped through on our way to Stuttgart. But after all the Paris-based reading that's been happening on The Velvet Cushion (it was really A Moveable Feast that started it off), I felt it was time to spend a few days here again.

The Eurostar experience was good. Security is a bit hassly, as always, but it really helps that you don't have to drag all your electronics out. It would be useful to have a bit more seating in the waiting area. But it's all pretty comfortable.

At this point, let PT give you what real bloggers call a PRO TIP.

And it's this: Do not, repeat NOT, buy your metro ticket on the Eurostar... They advertise this service, and you think, "What a good idea. That will save my having to mess about with unfamiliar ticket machines, and launch me quickly on my way." But on two out of the two occasions we have done this, only one of the two tickets we have purchased has worked... So one of you arrives at the barrier, and goes through. The other one gets stuck, and has to go off in search of another form of travel document.

It's like the US presidential election. The first time might be an aberration. The second time speaks to a systemic malaise.

Anyway, equipped with a second working ticket, we were finally underway, metroing from the Gare du Nord via Republique to Jourdain (in Belleville). From there it's just a short walk to our Airbnb.

We're in a studio again. So the bed folds up during the day, and is lowered at night-time (this seems to be how small apartments work in this part of the world):


It's small, but the views are SPECTACULAR:




The neighbourhood is low-key and non-touristy. The vibe is good:








So... Back in Paris. I'm looking forward to the next couple of days of exploration, and the journey ahead.