First class to Brussels
Over margaritas in Houston, we chatted about our second passions, his stained glass art and my piano music. Then his cell phone rang. It was a call from Paris. Our good friend Robert Avalon was making plans for London and the rest of Europe. I mentioned that I was planning to leave for Brussels on the 3rd of November. So was he.
Back in London, I booked a special £100 return fare on Eurostar via the Internet. My tickets got delivered the next day. First class included a meal and first class fellow passengers.
I was apprehensive at first, for I was too exhausted to bear the thought of having to carry on a conversation when what I really needed was sleep. Yes, sleep, glorious sleep. Perchance to dream. Oh! Slumber, how I welcome thee!
Indeed I was asleep in the waiting lounge at Waterloo when Robert walked up. I tried to explain why I was so tired. I had gone to bed at 1 am and had woken up before 7 am. It had been like this almost everyday in the two weeks since I got back from Houston. His bright smile and enthusiasm soon lifted me up. Tales of his travels and interesting people he met pulled me out of my weary wait.
But we were on two different coaches, maybe I could still get my needed sleep, I thought. The train manager directed us to coach 10 where we were given facing seats. Then I began to talk. Champagne arrived and went. Lunch was better than airplane food. Real cutting-edge knives and forks were allowed. We "whined" and dined. I was wide awake but work asleep.
We didn't even notice passing through the 20-minute tunnel. The journey was almost too short. I hadn't finished what I wanted to say. We had gone from the present to the future and then to the past. Some things stuck: projections are self-fulfilling prophecies. He will perform at the Wigmore Hall on 1st February 2002 - the dream of a lifetime. And I? Where is my dream of a lifetime? If I don't visualise it, then I won't get it. So it's time to dream.
4 November 2001 Sunday