(lively orchestra music) I waved goodbye to Fiona, and stepped onto the train platform in Witham, bound for London. There’s no direct train from Witham to Rugby, so I had to take the commuter train back into London, and change trains. (lively music and sound of train) (baby cries) I’ve always enjoyed train travel. It’s rather romantic in a way. (train whistle) (woman’s voice) This train is for London Liverpool Street. The next stop will be Stratford. (train whistle) You must buy a ticket, before you get on one of our trains. If you do not show a valid ticket you may be liable to pay a penalty fare. (baby cries) (Kaye) The enjoyment though, is directly in proportion to your comfort level. (baby cries) And I spent seven years riding the New York subway, so I know. I didn’t love the idea of heading back into that sweltering heat. The stations are a football field length apart so that meant a hike with my heavy backpack pulling my roller bag, with little time to spare. (baby cries) I nearly jumped out of my skin when this freight train flew by. (loud whoosh) The windows were open, which made it much louder. We pulled into London station. I had to take a short tube ride as well. This handsome actor was worth stopping to take a photo. At Euston, I stepped into the concourse and looked for my train. I hadn’t realized I’d booked such a a cool train for the ride. As we pulled out of Euston station, the difference in the noise level between the commuter train from Witham and the Virgin train to Rugby was striking. (lively orchestra music) Virgin Trains in the UK reach 125 miles per hour top speeds. They have tilting mechanisms to whiz even faster around corners and cooler paint jobs than anything else on two rails, according to their website. Booking a month in advance got me a great fare. I was enjoying filming the English countryside so much, and there were so few stops, I hadn’t noticed that one must be waiting at the door before the train stops, and be ready to push the door-open button. When I reached Rugby station, the train was pulling out as I was getting to the door. I slightly panicked when the train sped away as there hadn’t been a stop in a half an hour. Luckily. there was another stop five minutes ahead and a returning train five minutes after that so I was only 15 minutes late to meet my traveling companion of the next five days, Marie Rowe. Marie lives in the village of Dunchurch, a civil parish and village on the southwestern outskirts of Rugby in Warwickshire. I was pooped from travel and heat, so we headed to her upstairs flat with a view, and proper English tea with homemade cake to contemplate our planned road trip to Wales.