The Removalist

What a day. I feel like I’ve spent most of it travelling. I guess I did.

I’d planned to go up to town today and pack up Mirinda’s personal things from her office (in preparation for her leaving). I figured I’d just need a small bag. Fortunately Mirinda straightened me out on that.

I had to go to the flat first because our big wheelie bag was sitting there, taking up carpet space. So, train to Waterloo, Tube to Canary Wharf. All well and good. I went to the flat, collected the bag (and the piles of junk mail) and took off to Holborn.

While happily sat on the DLR, an announcement pretty much ruined my day. The Central line was a mess because of an ‘earlier incident’ and was suffering huge delays. This was the line I’d have to change to at Bank. I took a deep breath and decided to walk.

Thank Bernard D Sadow & Robert Plath, I had a wheelie bag, that’s all I can say. It’s quite a hike from Bank to Holborn, particularly when the weather’s a bit dodgy. But I managed it.

Packing the case didn’t take very long though I was a bit surprised at the size of the precious vase – for some reason I thought it was a lot smaller. Fortunately, Mirinda keeps an entire wardrobe at work, so it was an easy job packing round the vase to ensure a safe journey. I am still amazed at the quantity of shoes in the filing cabinet.

Having filled the bag, I put the black brief case over my shoulder and the stupid cowboy hat on my head, and headed out to hail a cab. Quite apart from the problems on the Central line, I didn’t fancy vying with commuters for every inch of space. And it was a nice, leisurely cab ride with a driver who actually knew the road where the flat is. In the past, I’ve had to direct them.

I then unpacked everything, being very careful with the vase; arranging the shoes along one wall of the bedroom. There really were a lot of shoes. I sometimes think my wife wants to be Imelda Marcos. I then popped down the Spa for some milk. I had to bring the suitcase home with me so I had decided to wait a bit later in order to avoid the rush hour.

I needn’t have bothered. The Canary Wharf Jubilee line is still packed at 7pm and the 7:30 train I was going to catch home was full to the extent that people were standing in the aisle! This used to happen on the slam door trains a lot but I don’t think I’ve seen it on the 444s. Well, before this one, that is.

I decided to miss the 7:30 and catch the 8pm, which was far more pleasant. I discovered that a train to Surbiton had been cancelled so, some genius at Waterloo had decided to attach an extra carriage to the 7:30 and add a stop at Surbiton. A whole train into an extra carriage. You do the math.

Getting home was a relief, even though it was later than I’d expected. The poodles had been waiting in the rain (why do they do that?) and were, of course, ecstatic I’d returned to them.

This marked my first time at the flat in the dark. The night skyline is great. So I snapped a photo, resting it on the balcony rail to keep it steady. it sort of worked.

View from the Canary Wharf flat

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2 Responses to The Removalist

  1. Mum Cook says:

    As I have said before you do have lots of adventures, that sounds like your sister, “shoes glorious shoes” love the photo very different.
    Love mum

  2. Mirinda says:

    That made me laugh a lot. I do have quite a few shoes at work but I only wear 2 pairs – black boots or brown boots.

    I hope no one saw you with that beard, hair and hat ….. thank God I am changing jobs …. such behaviour is verbotten at Pearson.


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