The 12:58 Eurostar from London’s St Pancras station to Brussels is a very civilized service, but still surprisingly busy.
‘These seats are very small,’ observed the man I was next to as I squeezed in beside him, ‘I am very tall.’ I guessed he had a Belgian accent.
‘I’m tall too!’ I laughed brightly, trying to find a position where my knees weren’t jammed uncomfortably against the seat in front.
‘I am taller,’ he said matter-of-fact. Some people have to make everything a competition. The rest of our journey was in silence.