Once more into Essex

Why do people like to sound like morons? It’s almost like a competition to see who can sound the stupidest. And they swear a lot. I guess because they have no other way to express themselves.

Still, we shouldn’t ponder the unponderables or we’ll wind up going mad. Maybe one of them that can read could maybe drop me a note and explain it.

Anyway, I spent a ridiculous amount of time stuck on a train in Essex today in the company of some really thick sounding individuals. There was a points failure which meant the trains coming in the opposite direction had to pass us before we could move on to the next station.

This followed a strange non-event on South West Trains. The indicator board claimed there was an incident at Woking and the next train had been cancelled.

I had no choice but to risk it though Mirinda decided not to and, instead, sat in a pub with a cup of tea. Well, everything was fine. The train trip was really smooth and easy with the added benefit of fewer passengers than usual.

Waterloo was a bit of a mess with plenty of disgruntled commuters standing around looking extremely pissed off. I just sailed passed them all to the Jubilee Line, heading for Stratford.

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I’m pleased to say that I arrived at the airport with enough time to have a coffee and two Borders Biscuits, the best biscuits in the world as I think I’ve mentioned before.

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Mum’s flight was on time and I helped her get out of the wheelchair and we set off for home.

Everything was fine until we reached Waterloo. The usual hordes going to Surbiton stormed the gates as soon as the platform was announced. Who knew there were thousands of people who catch the train to Surbiton at 8pm on a Monday?

Needless to say I wound up crushed up against a door. A nice chap offered mum a seat so at least she was comfortable.

And, just because it was clearly not bad enough, the train was delayed and sat at Waterloo waiting for a train crew. In case I was getting too complacent, the fates had decided that a guy standing too close to me would spend the trip sniffing.

Finally we were told the problem was an earlier fatality that had stuffed the trains up for the entire day. Naturally all of the trains were in the wrong place so our train, of all the others, had to consist of only four carriages but had ten million people on it.

Still, at least mum managed a seat.

Eventually we arrived home where mum regaled me with stories of her Dutch adventures. Clearly she had a fun and jolly time with Dianne.

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