My train journey home

I’m on the train coming home now after a lovely weekend staying with a friend. Lots of good food and conversation, sunshine and seaside walks.  So far my train connections back have been fine.  Mr 33 is making roast chicken for dinner.  I told him I will go away for the weekend more often if I get roast chicken on my return.  He said no.

I had a cup of tea and a coco pops in a Spurs bowl for breakfast.  I hope Mr 33 doesn’t find out about this infidelity as he is an Arsenal fan.  We both are.  I am in denial about the 4-0 thrashing yesterday.  I just saw the score on my phone so it didn’t happen.  I am hungry now and the man with the trolley has gone AWOL.

I cannot phone Mr 33 as the block of four seats opposite me has four talking women sitting there.  In reality one of them is talking 95% of the time.  The others are just listening.  I am trying to read but catch bits of their conversation or monologue and realise I am on a different wave length to them.

‘Mike had a selfie stick so we didn’t have to ask people to take photos of us.  That is always so embarrassingly.’   Is it?  I’m always happy to take photos of people and occasionally ask people to take photos of me and Mr 33.   Owning a selfie stick would be embarrassingly for me and I’d rather die than use one.

The next comment that amazed me was: ‘Children are like pets they need routine.’  Do pets have a routine?  I am still pondering this.   Surely if you feed and walk your dog at the same time every day then you will give your children routine.  Our guinea pigs never had a routine.  They were lucky to be fed before we went to school and were played with as and when we felt like it.  Most pets do what they want when they want.  Any why say children are like pets.

I’m on my final train now heading for home, still awaiting the tea trolley.  I have finished one of my books so I was right to bring two with me.  I will enjoy telling Mr 33 this.

I will post this now and find some cash ready for the tea man.  I hope you have enjoyed your bank holiday weekend.


My train journey

I’m trying out blogging on my phone.  Today I’m travelling to a friend’s by train for the bank holiday weekend. Without my husband!

‘Why are you taking two books with you? Your ruck sack is too heavy.’

So I can read on the train of course and not have to worry about whether you are hungry, thirsty, bored or chatty.

My journey is a long one. I started early and had a back up plan as I don’t trust trains.  Off peak return booked with seat reservations as it’s bank holiday weekend.  A four hour journey with two connections.

My first train is cancelled so now my four hour journey with two connections becomes  five hours with three connections.  Connection one was only three stops away and I buy myself a coffee, much needed after my 5am start.  Mr 33 likes to buy food and drinks.  Usually I give him a ten pound note and ask for a small tea.  He always comes back with two teas the size of my head.  This annoys me as apart from being expensive it is also wasteful as I can never finish big drinks.  Success today one small coffee.

Two men in the coffee shop are talking to each other.  One asks if the other travels by train a lot.  He says yes he tries to get away every weekend.  I love that man.  That should be me.

The next connection turns up and as it’s still early there are plenty of seats.  I enjoy my book and ask the ticket inspector which train company I need to go to for my compensation.  I’m happy that I reserved seats as this is proof of my delay as my first train was cancelled.  I check the website.  I’ll be at least an hour late so that’s half of my return fare to be refunded.  Nearly the cost of one day of freedom.

Next connection is a bit worrying as my app tells me it is standing room only.  However I’m  able to get a seat and carry on with my book.

The final connection is busy with lots of loud people at the station.  I have to work out which part of the train to sit in for my short station destination.

I arrive one hour five minutes late.  My friend is there and my weekend away begins.