The last part of my journey was to get home. The rest of the party shot off up the motorway to catch the Eurotunnel train, and I settled down to a leisurely lunch a la Restaurant de la Gare, which was excellent.
Promptly at 3pm the train arrived, and equally promptly left at it's appointed hour of 3:09.
Before that I had wandered into the station kiosk. I'm absolutely certain no railway kiosk in the UK ( or anywhere else for that matter) has books for sale by Zola, Flaubert, Proust and Prosper Merrimee. I find it oddly cheering that France sticks to its intellectual superiority.
Then I sat down in the train. On the other side of the aisle was a young man with two young ladies, probably all in their mid twenties. I could see under the table as I was sitting slightly below them.
One of the young ladies took the boy's hand surreptitiously as they all chatted animatedly.
Then the other young lady started caressing his thigh on the other side. He did look slightly surprised, but quickly assumed a beatific smile.
Especially when the first young lady dropped his hand and went for the thigh on her side of the carriage...
It was probably just as well that they got off at the next stop. But I was very much reminded of the bit in The Kinsey Report when the old professor is asked to name his most sexually stimulating day dream, and he describes a similar scenario.
Only to shatter the interviewer by saying he misunderstood her question - it wasn't a day dream, it had actually happened to him.
From memory the interviewer tore up the papers after the old boy had left, on the basis it was impossible.....