Brussels to Ipswich

Reflected glints skid across the ceiling of the carriage. Each signals presence of a mobile phone. As we cross borders they also chirrup or burp or honk warnings of the dangers of data usage abroad.

We have entered the tunnel. "no service" has been declared. Even two days without email, or Twitter has made me feel bereft and nostalgic as of a youthful love affair.

My companion is sleeping now, calmly and sweetly like a little child. Her lips are curved and her face beams with happiness. Thank god there are such moments still for her.

Twenty minutes before light.

My companion has awoken just before we arrived in England she said she felt we were exiting the tunnel. As she spoke the carriage grew light once again.