Sunday, mindless Sunday.

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Hanging around Gare de Paris Bercy for the train to Vézelay. I will be thankful once I am leaving Paris. I've had my fill. Just now I ate scrambled egg with coffee and fresh orange to try to equalise my unfeeling this morning.

Last night I returned to speak some more to the Mexican couple who live in Texas, but they had left: I should've as the deeper I got into Montmartre and it's tourist trappings the more money it appeared to bleed from me. My daily allowance from today is hovering around £50 which I couldn't do if I wasn't on a recognised Chemin Saint Jacques: voie de Vézelay is the closest to Paris - a short 2.5 hours on a regional train. People gather for the preceding train towards Lyon. People watching here. Nowt else to do really. I could use the bathroom, but I haven't any change: why they charge in French train stations is beyond me...

On the train I used the toilet prior to departure and got a final 'seat' before the train departed full to the rafters. The lady opposite, who also dislikes Paris, described QE2 as the World Queen...

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