Chapter 3
Who knew that sleeping inside a train, stationed in one of the biggest stations, could be so comfortable? James was prepared to wake up still tired, without having had the chance to fall into a deep slumber. The opposite turns out to be true.
While it is the uproar outside the carriage and the aroma of a cup of coffee that wake him, it’s also the first time he finds himself awake since dragging himself inside the train the night before.
Dinner lasted longer than he’d dared to hope for, a grinning Gabriel telling him all about the peculiar people he encountered during his sketching.
As the sky slowly turned darker, they found themselves walking along the Seine back to the station.
After the forty-minute walk he wasn’t awake enough to take in the beauty anymore.
Upon arriving at The Adventurer he had to will himself to go through his nighttime routine, making his way around the cabin all bleary-eyed and stumbling.
Vaguely, he recalls Gabriel sniggering at him from his own side of their shared space. The rest is all a blur.
His eyes find Gabriel, sitting upright with his back against the headboard. He seems lost in the book in his lap, absentmindedly bringing a cup of coffee up to his lips.
James groans, alerting Gabriel of his awake state. “Morning. What time is it?”
“Morning.” Gabriel parrots without his eyes straying from the book. “Last I checked, it was just after eight.”
James hums, turning around to burrow himself into the surprisingly comfortable duvet. It’s one of the few mornings of the whole trip he didn’t make any solid plans for.
He grants himself the extra half an hour to doze before his bladder alerts him it’s time to get out of bed. He finds Gabriel just like he had earlier in the morning, stuck in his book with a wild head of bed hair. James hides his smile as he stretches.
Only when he’s standing next to the bed the full layout of the room connects in his mind.
The curtains above the table must be hiding a big window to provide the opportunity of sightseeing.
The armchairs next to the table look comfortable and soft, something he can lounge on with a good book after a long day.
His bags are still on the ground, next to the chest of drawers that are pushed against the wall.
The one thing his eyes linger on is the lack of space between their mattresses.
It’s a queen-sized frame, housing two single mattresses.
He swallows his panic as he looks at Gabriel, who’s trying his best to look as casual as possible but is failing miserably.
James figures he should be grateful for the separate duvets at least. He’s quick to say, feeling the need to defend himself, “I didn’t book a room with a queen-size. ”
Gabriel looks away as he answers, “I know. I only realized after you dashed off yesterday. I checked, they don’t have any rooms with singles left.”
James winces, swallowing around the lump in his throat. They haven’t left yet and things are already going wrong.
“But, we can’t share a bed the whole trip.”
Now Gabriel winces and shrugs. “Looks like we might have to. Don’t worry, I won’t do anything untoward.”
“I’m not worried about that,” James insists truthfully. “I just don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”
Gabriel’s eyes are kind when their gazes lock again. “I won’t be. It will be an adjustment, but we’ll only be here to sleep anyway.”
James hums, mind running a mile a minute at the adjustment that this takes. While he’s not afraid of something untoward happening, he is afraid that he won’t be able to resist reaching out for Gabriel once he has him that close.
Not once did he think that this was something that could happen.
He supposes he’ll have to try and make peace with it.
With a sigh he starts pulling out his clothes and begins emptying his suitcases into the closet.
With a sense of relief he spots two spare pillows tucked on the top shelf. Maybe that’s something to work with.
“Any plans today?” He gathers his outfit for the day, a comfortable dusty pink sweater and a trusted pair of gray chinos. The only answer he gets is the ruffling of a page. Turning back to Gabriel he only now sees the pair of earbuds in his ears. He waves the pillows a little.
“Oh, sorry.” Gabriel grimaces as he takes one of them out. “What’s up?”
“I’m going to shower,” James tells him, awkwardly holding up his gathered clothes. “I asked about your plans. And I think these could work as a barrier between us.” He puts the pillows on the bed, on what he apparently dubbed at his side.
He gets a shrug in reply. “Don’t know. Heard the weather is taking a turn, so I don’t feel like risking my sketchbook.” That makes sense. With one hand on the handle to the small bathroom, James pauses. He can always offer Gabriel to join him today. He just doesn’t want to risk another rejection.
With a sigh and one last glance toward Gabriel, he pushes into the en suite. It’s small, smaller than he expected but larger than most train companies tend to offer. There’s a sink, one he blurrily remembers from last night, and a shower that will do the trick for the upcoming weeks.
He’s actually doing this. Tonight The Evergreen Adventurer will be leaving Paris and the European holiday adventure officially begins.
He’ll be showering in this little bathroom while the train brings them to cities he’s only ever dreamed of visiting.
There will be new food to taste, new cultures to explore and the holiday spirit to get lost in.
It’s exhilarating, amazing and utterly terrifying.
For just a moment, underneath the warm spray of the water, there’s an inkling of doubt.
There will be no turning back now, not after the train leaves this station tonight.
Not only because the cost would be astronomical, but also because he knows Gabriel will make sure he stays to finish the trip.
For all his reluctance, James can see that there are parts Gabriel is already enjoying about it as well.
Not wanting to dwell on the negatives too long, for the fear of getting stuck in them, he finishes his shower and gets himself ready for the day.
Today, there will be French onion soup and, if he can find it, a bottle of Beaujolais Nouveau and a trip to Galeries Lafayette to see the Christmas displays.
While he ties his shoes, there’s another moment where he doubts about asking Gabriel to join him.
He is, however, still lounging on his bed and lost to the pages of the book.
It settles the last of James’ doubts. He decides to leave Gabriel to whatever he wants to do today.
“I’m leaving. Can I bring back something? ”
“Hmm,” Gabriel hums while he drags his eyes away from the book. “No, thanks. Just make sure-”
“That I’m back before five?” James smiles, a hint of teasing laughter entering his voice. “Who do you take me for? I’ll be back at three.” Gabriel’s laughter follows him out.
The narrow hallway is fully carpeted with a burgundy tarp and wooden paneling.
The wreaths hanging along the windows should be tacky, but to James it just screams Christmas and warmth and coziness.
He trails his hands along the green twigs, surprised by the earthy smell that drifts up as he ruffles the leaves.
Artificial pine smell. What a nice touch. It makes him laugh, imagining someone spraying the carriages with it to ensure that every detail ties together so wonderfully.
*
The immense Christmas tree that greets him in the middle of the shopping center stops him in his tracks.
Not only is it a lot taller - and bigger - than the videos portray, it’s imposing in its beauty and elegance.
At any other time of the year it would be unbelievably tacky, full of sparkles, glitter and mirrored ornaments.
Now, it just works. It screams festive joy and holiday cheer.
As far as his eyes can see there are different lights, market stalls and window displays full of Christmas gifts and other trinkets. All he really wants is to just wander for a bit, indulge in something sweet later in the day and tick off the last of the items on his Paris list.
The entire building can be seen as a monument on its own.
From the glass ceiling to the details on the pillars.
He’s in awe of it all. The glass dome is all done up in Christmas lights, falling all the way down toward the bottom floor.
It’s almost overwhelming in its grandness.
There are people passing him, pushing and pulling him from every side.
He knew that he wasn’t going to be able to spend long inside the biggest shopping mall in Paris, but all the magazines and websites told him that the Christmas displays on both the inside and the outside of the Galeries Lafayette were something to visit. They most certainly weren’t wrong.
On his way out, his watch beeps to indicate it’s just turned noon. He smiles to himself, the perfect excuse to stop somewhere and get something to eat. There is, after all, still one meal he wants to try while in Paris.
Obviously, he can get a French onion soup in London as well. It’s the notion of trying it for the first time in Paris what makes it extra special for him. The people he talked to online about what to try where and when all recommend trying the soup with either a garlic or cheesy toasted bread.
It seems like the perfect meal to dig into as he walks around. Gabriel was right: the weather has taken a turn for the worse. The cold seeps through James’ gloves and wiggles its way underneath his woolen scarf. He shivers.
The nicely lit awning of a small brasserie welcomes him in as he stops at a crossing. The red and green decorations scream Christmas and holiday cheer. And although there are a few people mingling inside, it’s not too busy for him to walk in and settle down comfortably.
“Bonjour, monsieur. What can I help you with today?” The waiter asks as he flips open a notepad. In a clumsy mix of broken French and stuttered English, James replies, “Bonjour, hello. Je voudrais onion soup? With some bread, please?” With every word that leaves his lips, his cheeks turn redder.
Throughout it all, the waiter smiles at him patiently and jots down the items he orders. “Something to drink as well?”
“Oh yes! Would you have a Beaujolais? Someone recommended it as a seasonal wine.” He lights up at the thought of combining the two remaining items on his list. He’s too occupied to try his hand at the little French he learned.
“Of course. It’ll be right out.” With a final scribble on his notepad, the waiter nods at James and leaves.
The warm atmosphere in the little room feels just like the holidays should, James figures.
It’s homely and the buzzing of the people around him is somewhat calming.
From somewhere further inside, there’s a speaker playing classical jazzy holiday music.
It’s Paris as he imagined it. It’s the perfect way to end these three wonderfully hectic days in this beautiful, rich city.
The flavorful meal proves to be exactly what he expected.
It’s filling, but not overly so. The bread tastes delicious dipped into the cheesy soup, and the red wine leaves an earthy aftertaste.
It’s almost over too soon, when the bowl is empty and he’s left nursing the glass of wine.
His watch beeps again, the final warning to make his way back toward Gare du Nord to board The Evergreen.
Before he leaves the restaurant, he ticks off the last two remaining boxes on the Paris page in his notebook. With a proud and satisfied smile he looks at the rows of completed itinerary items. Maybe I will be able to do this after all.