The joy of travelling

This morning we had breakfast in St Pancras railway station, before catching our train home from Kings Cross. I couldn't help but notice, as I watched people coming and going, that there was a happiness about the place, something you never feel at airports.

Airports are no longer the exciting places they ought to be, full of people looking forward to travelling to faraway places with strange sounding names. They have become clinical, stern places where someone always seems to be trying to catch you out, either with the wrong bit of paper, a too heavy case or a plastic bottle in your pocket. And all the queuing and waiting around, and the focus on persuading you to buy, buy, buy, rather than on whether you are happy or not.

Railway Stations are real places, with people around who actually deal with the trains and can make sure you get on the right one. It feels as though someone wants you to travel with them. St Pancras has a wonderful atmosphere. Yes it's modern and clean, but it's exciting and friendly. People are happy, joyful even. They are going to and fro, rather than sitting around looking bored or standing in endless queues.

Perhaps to us UK people, for whom France and the rest of Europe has always been across the sea, it's still a little magical that you can get on a train and arrive in Paris in a couple of hours. Perhaps that's why St Pancras has the aura it has. Or perhaps someone somewhere actually cares how people feel here, something airports lost touch with a long time ago.

I don't think you would find this kind of fun at any airport I've ever been to. It was there in St Pancras this morning.