The girl serving in the pub hailed from Turin, so I practised my Italian on her, and probably did badly. It was around 15 degrees Celsius, and you didn't need a jumper. A good thing we learned our lesson last year, and came to Europe slightly later when it was a little warmer. Another lesson from last year paid off too. I was reminded this morning that on the London Underground, sometimes passengers have no choice but to climb the steps when lifts and escalators are unavailable. Last year, we had to negotiate such steps with huge bags. Our pocket-size baggage this year proved to be a godsend when confronted with the menacing steps.
The train left Euston at 10.43. A male passenger struggled to hoist his massive back-pack onto the overhead shelves. Jean whispered that he was an 'amateur traveller'. I whispered back that he was practising for next year.