Almost but not quite Readers Words

I think I probably know each and everyone of my readers (though not everything about them, that inside leg measurement seems to be missing off most of their Facebook pages - ed)

That is apart from my Alaskan Reader; no idea who he/she/other* (*please choose one - ed) is. Never been to Alaska, or know anyone who has moved there in recent times, so they are still probably just a web-crawling server farm enjoying the climate in the far Northwest of continental North America.

So, these readers (I love you all - Dick Emery ed), occasionally mail me with helpful comments..

Please Stop

Is not one of the comments I have received, which is a bit of a surprise, but then I am continually surprised by the way of the world. Events in the world seem to have moved up a notch in recent times, with a major increase in speed. Naturally this can not keep increasing, but maybe just an uptick and in due course (“If you touch that Julie Coarse there will be trouble”, I hear the Bridget In My Head (™) saying - ed) there will be a downtick.

We went to lunch, or possibly second breakfast with Esmerelda Blenkinsop, during her short, but pleasant stop with us last week.

Going to lunch, with no Prime Minister and none in the offing until early September, came back from lunch (Bottega dei Sapori has little mobile coverage and no Wifi, hurrah - ed) and lo and behold we had a new Prime Minister.

Complaints

“Where’s the missing link?”, the latest and most raised complaint, to which I would retort,

“Just next to Darwin College, at the University of Kent, Canterbury, (UK - ed)”, well in my head at least, usually I just mumble apologies about my inadequate use of modern technology and the failure to paste a copied link and that I will try to do better next time.

I reckon that the more people you are intending to inform (not spam - ed) of the latest ground breaking post (I did dig out some early potatoes - so at least that was groundbreaking - gardening ed), the more likely you are to cock it up, that does appear to be life.

But apart, from this minor complaint, and mentioning this just goes to show that I can take criticism (but it makes me feel really really bad, so hold off on the WTF!?’s. If I had a WTF!? counter it would have gone “tilt” by now - ed).

I suppose the most common complaint or is it just a plain comment with dark undertones, rather like that bottle of Italian wine I purchased from Buon Vino, that was one of the top five (3+2 = 5 - maths teaching assistant ed) wines I have ever tasted, well once you have ruled out all of the wines that my Brother-in-Law (Hi Ali - please don’t hold back on sharing the wines - ed) has shared with me (ahem, us - don’t forget Bridget ed) over the past years. I have got well beyond the point where my top five wines has just a few more than five in it.

Sorry, started to go off on one, (this really is one of the most common complaints - circulation ed), but what I was trying to do was…

(outside the window of the 6:44 Alton to Waterloo train, the Wimbledon(e) Train Care Depot has just receded from view, I am in my usual seat, carriage 7 of 8 and it is now 07:40, Thursday 30th June and heading backwards to Waterloo ...

[Am I Always Repeating Myself - Abba Ref ed],

...and I am moving into Holiday Mode (™) as this is my last day at work...

[Sadly not for ever, as my lottery ticket has failed to come up, AGAIN - big sighs R Us ed]

...before a two week break from work, not life it appears - ed).

[And back to the plot from somewhere up above]

… was…. was what? Totally lost the thread of what was coming next - but I am now picking this post up nearly three weeks later so I am not really surprised.

Let’s move on...

Continental Break and perhaps Breakfast

“Is having a break allowed?”, I can hear the unrest percolating through my readership, as emails start to fly and I am bombarded with questions:

• “Will there be posts?”,
• “Where are you going?”,
• “What will you be doing?”,
• “Are you taking your iron and iron board for some more extreme ironing?”
• “Are you going to practice your, “Strictly”, hip wiggle some more?” (just to enlighten you, that is Bridget asking that one, though a lady, she has a large amount of years BEFORE she is a Lady of A Certain Age - phew think I got away with that one ed)
• “Are you going to write about what happens to you?”

As it happens, we are going to Italy, in the Summer, where I have been lead to believe it will be hot.

Well I can take hot, I can.

I was in an office in Southampton the last time it was HOT 30+ C (that was IN the office, an old 60s office block with little or no working air conditioning - ed) for a sustained period in the UK (Summer 2006 for those with short term memory issues - sarky ed), well that is in the South of England, can’t speak for the weather in the rest of the country at that time, as even with my many (many - ed) unrivalled skills even I can’t be in multiple places at the same time (well apart from in my mind that is, where I am usually all over the place at all times - psych eval ed)

The theory is there will be posts (though as I am finishing writing this AFTER coming back AND there were no successful posts during the holiday then we can assume that there were in fact no posts during this period - truth commission ed)

(Though I did try and post the Room with a view photo with a few simple words like - “I”, “A” and “Y” - but that failed for some reason which I then failed to get to the bottom of. I mean, why would I try and work out why, I was on holiday don’t ya know; but for those readers who are concerned, and that will be very few, if any, of you I would have thought, that photo was finally published just now - ed)

Busy Doing Nothing

We plan on doing nothing much, with as much of “nothing” as we can get away with;

• there will be walking; you know the slow measured type (as it will be hot - ed),
• there will be much admiration of the architecture (look at that old brick, and that one and that roof over there, and that piazza…. ed)
• there will be visiting churches (they are usually much cooler on the inside, cooler in all respects you might say - architecture ed)
• there will be standing and admiring the gorgeous vistas (and gorgeous women [and men - equal opportunity ed] if I am lucky - but don’t tell Bridget - ed)
• there will be sitting in shade sipping cold beers, chilled white and sparkling white wines (well as much of this as I can convince Bridget to do - ed)
• there will be tomatoes on bread (though I think the Italians have a much better name for it than that - ed)
• there will be lie-ins (strangely this was not to be the case, as it was dare I say it, yes, yes I must, It Was Too Hot, so that getting out early in the morning; who knew that 5-6 a.m. existed on holiday; to wander around in the cool was a necessity and then possibly retreating indoors from mid-day until early evening to air-conditioned luxury possibly with a recently purchased cold bottle of Franciacorta - a sparkling white wine perhaps with a few nibbles became the order of play... - ed)
• there will be no beaches (distinctly lacking on top of a medieval Tuscan hill town - not sure how they expect to get any tourists at all - clueless ed)
• there will be no swimming (even if there are pools - ed)
• there will be no squealing (it is far from Deliverance territory - ed)
• hopefully there will be few if any children crying at being dragged around by their parents to look at “Italian culture” (sadly screaming tired, thirsty, hungry and hot kids are one thing that is simply International - whatever the nationality the kids seem to be the same. There is something profound here, but I shall not explore that in this post, perhaps another one, perhaps not - ed)
• there will be a  Fanny Handover Event (™) where we will meet Esmerelda Blenkinsop’s family and return with her to the UK - this is the crux of the whole holiday, to bring her back to Blighty for a few days as part of her Grand European Tour of Culture (escapes me how visiting us in Alton is part of a culture tour - but then again what do I know about anything - ed)
• there will be wearing of the Official Straw Hat of Summer (™) on my head. (I think that I managed to get away with no photos of me in the hat, but if I do find one, I will post it - as I am sure you would all love to see me in a hat maybe even with a smile? - ed)

We are only in Italy for a calendar week (not sure that there are any other type of weeks, but you know Mr Alaska can get a little confused - ed) and actually a little less as we fly out on the Saturday morning and fly back on the following Friday early afternoon, so covers 7 days, but travel seems to take up around a day

Ironing In Hot Climes

Just to be clear. There will be no ironing on holiday.

It is not allowed, It will not happen.

Though I do feel a certain urge to dress up …

(I can hear the pinny calling, and the thought of hot air circulating around the my naked torso has a certain attraction, not a picture that I will paint in anything but words; though it does throw up, and perhaps cause my readers to throw up at the thought, the idea of body painting for some reason that escapes me - ed)

..and iron on the balcony overlooking the Tuscan countryside, it does have a certain strange pull (You will not be doing any ironing, not naked, not on a balcony - the ed amongst eds - Bridget)

Given that this is being written afterwards, I can categorically state that no ironing was done.

In fact standing, or sitting on the metal, yes metal balcony, though there were some wooden boards down but even they were hot, was skin scorchingly hot during the day, so, if any ironing had been done (and let’s be clear, none was done - ed) it would have to have been done early morning or after the sun had moved far to the west, to allow the balcony to cool and naturally when Bridget was asleep or out of the room.

Remember, no ironing was done, with pinny on (or not as the pinny was forgotten).

Any gaggle of tourists standing underneath the balcony admiring the far off rolling blue hills of the Tuscan countryside were not shocked at getting an eyeful of Ironing Wonderland (™)..remember that this did not happen (especially if you are reading this Bridget - ed).

Strictly Wiggle

There have been some comments on the Strictly Hip Wiggle (™) from my more discerning readers, who seem to be commenting anonymously these days (but I know who you all are - circulation and Google statistics ed)

Posts about Italy

Well you could say that this post is about the holiday, though I am sure that when it started it was going to be about comments from readers of this blog;  but being someone of meagre talents, when the muse wanders off in a different direction it is always wise to follow in the same direction to see where she (muses are all female as far as I am aware, though Muse the band do not have any females in it - pop ed) takes you (up some very blind alleys it appears - ed)

So there will be a further post or two on Italy, the switch from San Gimignano to Siena for the Fanny Handover Event (™)  was sadly a major event as it appears I had been involved in booking the hotel in Siena (though when we arrived, apparently I had booked a hotel of the same name in Matera some 700km away, down near the boot of Italy and not in Siena at all - who’d have thought I could manage that - ed). That in conjunction with a very exciting and unexpectedly arduous taxi journey from San Gimignano to Siena without a toilet break was particularly taxing.

There will be Anguish in Aberdeen III - Heathrow Strikes Back

Well I could say real soon now, as we are not planning any more breaks until the Autumn, allowing me to complete the Aberdeen and Inverness trip posts with, what might be called alacrity, but events have overtaken me (along with most pedestrians as I am in Hot Climes Stroll Mode (™) where my tempo is much reduced to stop my feet overheating - ed).

Having got to Woking, in Anguish in Aberdeen Part Deux, the next installment is the coach trip to Heathrow followed by the Horror of Heathrow before we are in Aberdeen, let alone Inverness (or three hotel rooms in 12 hours!, as it is now known, yes that did happen, there were a number of unexpected water incidents, but you will need to wait until the full post for the details - ed)

This will be followed by a post on the success (really? - ed) of the Amsterdam trip mentioned in the Panning for Peppercorns post (amazin alliteration aside - ed) . Well there were a few minor incidents (or even miner incidents - ed) but nothing too disastrous.

After that I will fling out some posts on the Italy trip, perhaps, and that is definitely a maybe - some photos, depends on whether I remember.

Wind Up

This was not the post that I intended, but then they never seem to be, do they?

A View from the Room

Apparently there was a balcony, what the view fails to describe is the intense heat and how blue the far off hills and perhaps even mountains are.

A Room With A View

Seems I have a room with a view. Strangely few difficulties getting here, possibly because the household sanity is with me in the shape of Bridget.

Anguish in Aberdeen Part Deux (2) - Alton Station To Woking

We left our character (Anguish in Aberdeen Part 1 - From Home to Alton Station) at Alton station with the smell of bacon and sausage wafting into his nostrils. If you haven’t already read it, read it (please, and maybe pretty please  - circulation ed) and if you have, tell your friends (but not if you want to keep them - downer ed).

…

So, given the tempting bacon smell, what could one man do against millennia of genetic programming, (Just say, “No, no, no, no, no, Mama Mia, Mama Mia, Beelzebub"...as the sounds of Bohemian Rhapsody rips through my mind(s) - 70’s musical reference ed)

“Could I have a bacon roll?”, I said, with a quaver of fear in my voice (perhaps it was a crotchet, that musical notation can be damned tricky at times - ed)

(Those of you who are prone to spotting deep and dark themes in my writing or those of you looking for hidden meanings, will be sadly disappointed; as I was just asking for a bacon roll.

Those of you with a smattering of grammar…

[Ever so, ever so, sorry - failed grammar ed]

[Testing me at 11, and with that early failure under my belt, I was thus has scarred for life - much too young to be marked a failure - comprehensive argument ed]

… will notice that I didn’t use that horribly modern American phrase, now prevalent in our culture, of,

“Can I get a bacon roll”, [possibly without even a question mark! - sub ed] because I am sure that the vendor...

[well it was a chap - else it would have been a vendeuse - VIve La France sub ed]

..would have almost certainly answered either with a,

“No, Sir, but I will be pleased to get it for you”,

or potentially with a,

“I don’t let customers access the food directly Sir, it is against ‘ealth and Safety”,

or perhaps with the mildly humorous [or should that be hummus - Mediterranean food sub ed],

“I don’t think you arms are long enough, Sir”,

I am starting to like this vendor, he keeps calling me, “SIr”.

When I say he, you have to understand that this is me (the blogger, or putative writer ...

[I sooo wanted to get that word into this blog, was going to use it rather than “character” at the top but thought that might be too early on when you...

[[my lovely, lovely reader - boost the circulation by being smarmy to the reader sub sub ed]]

... had not sufficiently warmed up ...

[[do you need a hot water bottle or a hot drink, perhaps a massage - care and comfort for the reader sub ed] ]

..to the task of ploughing through all of this nonsense …

I seem to have gone too many brackets deep, a quick refactor to split this big wibble onto multiple lines for me to work out where I am.

Where is auto-indent-wibble feature when you need one…

Hmm, I think that I know where I am now [Just about to enter Woking according to, “Steve, your guard” - sub ed]...

I think that I can get away with just this - ed)

The vendor, (with the visual impairment - ed), said definitively,

“Yes!”

It was like all of my Christmases and Birthdays had come at once (not sure how many s’s should be in there, but I will let the Great Google Corrector in the Sky let me know in due course - ed)

[Somehow I hear Bridget’s voice in my head; this usually happens when I put the phone to my ear and she is on the other end of the line, but not this time, this time it comes unbidden from one of the many recesses of my multipolar mind ...

[[Did I let slip about my medical condition? “Nope”, “You are too many brackets deep and the readers just cannot cope with that”, “Phew” - medical ed]]

...and brings with it one of our many, Couple In Jokes (™) or is it Couple Shorthand  Conversations (™).

Bridget’s [remember this is a non-existent Bridget voice - do keep up ed] voice is saying,

“Julie Coarse, you seeing her again? I thought I had warned you off her, she is a real rough ‘un. You’ll need to be checked out at the clinic, again”

This is part of our vast array [“Can I use plethora, pretty please” - literary ed] or plethora of Cloth Ear Jokes (™), where we deliberately mishear what the other says for comedic effect and in the vain (?) of comedians of our culturally shared youth.

For me it was either, “Alas Smith and Jones”, or, “Three of a Kind” .

[[Somewhere in the great interweb of trivia that enfolds our lives these day, there is a link to information about these shows, so rather than me finding it and placing it here you can go and find it for yourself - “Nooo, Nooo, Noo” circulation ed (a slight Bohemian Rhapsody moment rears its ugly head again)]

At some point I might do a post on a number of them (amusing girls that I am supposed to be having some sort of relationship with, do keep up), but, and all together, “That isn’t important right now”.

[Just passing Vauxhall, the clouds are muttering quietly to themselves and look to be in a gravelly grey mood and threatening rain, aha here it comes,  - methinks there is either tennis or cricket to be played in London - cynical ed]

[[EBC intervention.

Dear Mr David,

We have had it brought to our attention that you have failed to get either off of Alton station or even been able to buy a bacon roll.

Your asides have strayed wide and far from the appropriate narrative.

Consider this a formal warning to get to the point,

Kind Regards,

General B. Factotum (retd)

Acting Director of the Editorial Board of Control

]]

I feel suitably chastened (if you touch that Susan Chastened once more, you are in Big Trouble (possibly in Little China) - Bridget the ed to end all eds)

And On With The Narrative

Where were we? Scanning back through the post I work it out.

(Aside to the readers - you think you have it hard trying to keep track of where you are in the post - I have had to hire a Sioux tracker to be with me at all times...

[Getting a bit cosy at night now, the bed is filling up with a whole host of fantasy characters]

[[Those Seven Dwarves are real buggers as they start ,“Hi Ho’ing”, at the drop of a hat, particularly when the black hell beat kicks off with a yowl in the middle of the night]]

... to enable to find where I left the path of sanity.

[Bridget pipes up, “Sue Tracker - is that another new girl? - ed]

So, let us set the scene once more.

David, rucksack on his back, a very happy look on his face, has just had his Christmas and Birthday rolled into one, as the Bacon Roll Vendor, has agreed to the sale of The Last Bacon Roll of the Day (at the Whistlestop Cafe, yes, like last time, this is a real place, and is on Alton Station - almost the whole truth ed).

Not forgetting Bridget’s advice, that I should not only eat, but drink as well.. sadly I was only given a dispensation to drink water and it was a little too early for anything stronger (It is never too early for champagne - ed), I asked for, “A Bottle of sparkling water please” (which was the closest I could get - ed), to which the vendor agreed with alacrity and enthusiasm, and within a few moments the deal was done (at least - maybe we can move on now - ed)

So, with one hand holding of a bacon roll in a paper bag (this is part of the of the railway bye laws, in that bacon rolls need to be covered at all times so as not to offend vegetarians. Strange though, as this is not the case with alcohol - bemused ed) and the other holding a cold bottle of sparkling water, I was set for the next stage of the journey.

Choosing the carriage and the seat therein

Now, if you are getting used to the way that I appear in this blog (Yes, we know all about you Mr. Collins - ed) this simple task is not so simple when I am involved. Not sure why this is so, but it does appear to be the case.

So, after counting the number of carriages, there were four (or 4, for those of you with a mathematical bent - maths ed), which meant that there would only be one First Class part carriage (we don’t get a full first class carriage usually at Alton - Christian Woolmar ed).

So, that at least, made the choice of which one go to into that much simpler (Yes, I am a First Class kinda guy - but only for work, when I, rather than the company have to pay it ends up being standard, and luckily for me, Woking, where I was to catch the coach, had I mentioned that I would be catching the coach from Woking to Heathrow - well if not, I have now, and if  I have, sorry for the repetition - ed).

So, once I had worked out which of the buttons to press (there being only one, “Open”, not sure what had happened to the “Close” button - possibly it had fallen off, or maybe the rise of automated door closure mechanisms had done away with its job.

There is probably a junkyard somewhere in the country filled with huge numbers of “Close” door buttons, each one reflecting on the cruelty of automation and sighing wistfully of the lives they used to lead. Going from city to city, meeting the fingers of a multitude of interesting people, being infected with a large number of communicable diseases. - ed)

I pressed the button, the door sighed and opened, and I entered the carriage, there was short moment where I had to walk through a part of Standard Class, but I managed to navigate that without any problems, for which I was truly thankful.

The door to First Class stood, pristine and proud, beckoning me seductively to enter its hallowed portal. I smiled, a superior smile (my usual shy smile being left at home for a rest after being used way too much the previous day - ed), as I knew I could legitimately enter the Blue Carriage of Pleasurable Seats (™) as I had a season ticket and knew how to use it.

I pressed the “Open” button. Nothing happened.

I pressed the “Open” button again. Nothing happened again.

I pressed the “Open” button harder this time, with a bit of a wiggle...

(when, the lady of a certain age (apparently a passenger), sitting in a nearby Standard Class seat, ”Sighed”, rather loudly. I realised I hadn’t wiggle my finger, but my hips, in a very, “Strictly” fashion.

I have been cultivating this wiggle for some time now, mostly as part of my daily yoga routine. I do this mostly to engender that kind of “Sigh”, from ladies who appreciate flexible hips on a man - ed )

Nothing happened. The door remained solidly closed.

What to do about such a conundrum (or as most people would put it, this “minor problem” - ed), I thought? Leave the carriage, and walk up to the next door and try and enter FIrst Class from the other direction, which might have a working door button, but somehow I felt that that would mark me as a, “Quitter”, to the lady of a certain age.

With a deliberate swivel of my hips (eliciting a further and rather gratifyingly loud “Sigh”, from my latest hip swivelling admirer - the things I do to get attention ed) I put the Hot Bacon Roll (still safe, warm and anonymous, in its white paper bag - ed) and the bottle of sparkling water onto the seat nearest the door, with a practiced shrug the rucksack followed.

I turned to face my admirer, ensuring I caught the lone shaft of sunlight on my white (white, possibly even gleamingly white - ed) teeth, a “Ting” could be heard. I was rewarded with, what I took to be the beginnings of a swoon...

(At this point I decided to cut back on my charm offensive, as “Ladies of a Certain Age” are difficult to pick up and put back into an upright posture if they collapse into a full swoon.

I once put my back out rectifying a Swoon Event (™) as there is a real problem in helping a lady up from the floor without actually touching her.

My preferred technique is to offer a lowered arm or possibly a hand, for them to grasp and when they have grabbed the offered article, brace myself and pull.

This particular lady was not only of a,”Certain Age”, but of a, “Certain Size”. The memory of that moment is seared into my psyche [it was painful, painfull, very very painful, - old ad ed] as well as the muscles in my back. Since then I have always been careful to keep my hip swivelling and teeth gleaming moments under control until I have surveyed the lay of the land - ed)

… but after the above mental asides,  I turned my Swoon Factor (™) down from a rather presumptuous ten (10),  to its more usual get through the days without incident, three (3).

The door was still shut. I then did what is sometimes a grim necessity, I grabbed the door by its vitals and pulled.

The door fought back, we tussled for a time but with another unintentional wiggle I managed to put my legs and hips into the door and then levering myself against the other side of the door force it fully open.

Reaching back I picked up the enbagged bacon roll, cold sparkling water and my rucksack. As I moved out of the door and into the First Class carriage, the door sighed (maybe it too had been admiring the Strictly Hip WIggle (™) and closed with a definitive, “Whump”.

Choosing a Seat

Once into a train carriage, most people and apparently this is a common phenomenon (cool word - literary ed), amongst those of a particular nature (Anyone else for OCD - medical ed), take choosing a seat to the extreme.

Here are some of the questions that you need to ask yourself:

• Should I be sitting so that I am facing the way of travel or have my back to it?
• This leads on to the question, if the train crashes will it be a head on or a shunt up the rear?
• What is the direction of travel?
• If it is a sunny day, should I sit on the other side to the sun ?(Luckily First Class, certainly on most of the South West trains have curtains - yes, curtains on a train, who would have believed that - astounding facts ed)? Knowing which direction the train is going is very helpful (pocket compasses or modern smartphones are particularly useful in helping the wavering seat chooser - ed)
• Should I sit at a table? (Tough one that, as this can potentially lead into foot tango and an exchange of, “Sorry, where would you like to put your feet?”, moment, most disconcerting for Brits. The seat to choose, of the four available, is a real art, and it is always interesting to see how people play that one - ed)
• Should I sit near the door? (Particularly relevant in Winter for the blasts of bitingly cold air that come with the arrival of new passengers - ed)
• Should I sit on the aisle seat and put my bag on the window seat? (Ensuring that someone has to not only ask me to move, but all ask me to move the bag - this is one of the most usual plays - ed)
• Should I sit next to the window? (Thus potentially allowing someone to sit next to you without any kind of communication - reserved Brits R Us ed).
• If I sit next to the window should I put the rucksack on the aisle seat in a, “I want to be alone”, Marlene Dietrich manner?
• What time of the day? Think commuter traffic versus off peak travel.
• What day of the week is it? Monday to Friday are so much different to Saturday let alone Sunday (really don’t get me started about Sunday - engineering works ed)
• If Saturday or Sunday, are there engineering works or timetable changes. Fewer trains per hour or altered routes can cause altered passenger load factors
• Have you checked the weather reports to see if rain, snow, leaves, or high winds are affecting train services - most importantly on the line that you are on.
• Have you checked for any labour unrest, strikes, work to rules as this can lead to a major reduction in services with its concomitant increase in passengers per train and hence seat usage.
• Which month is it, as there are seasonal fluctuations due to school holidays, public holidays.

Yes, believe it or not (sorry, cannot believe that all that goes through you head when you first enter a carriage - ed), well, not all of it, as much of it has already been thought through whilst waiting for the train to arrive, or on the way to the station.

I gave the carriage a onceover (like a makeover without the sparkly nails - fashion ed) and there was only one other person it.

It was post morning rush hour, it was a Friday in May, not a Bank Holiday, not a half term, overcast outside, so no sun in the eyes issues, forecast for passenger numbers between Alton and Woking - low, might get another 4-6 people in the carriage by Woking, so safe to put the bag on the seat next to me, took a window seat (as I usually do - ed), no industrial unrest on the railways, weather forecast was changeable - but this is Britain and that is pretty much always the case. Took the seat nearest the door, a potential misstep, as I might have to help others to wrench it open and I am not sure my hands, arms and hips were up to it.

One of the benefits of First Class (on South West trains - ed) is that all of the non-table seats have a small table in the back of the seat in front, just like airlines. Pulled the table down and put the bacon roll and water down on it.

I was thus set for the journey to Woking.

Now, what was unusual about this particular (do you have any usual journeys? This one seems to be incredibly difficult and you haven’t even managed to get out of Alton yet - get on with it ed), journey, is that I usually get on the train on work days, sit on the same seat every day, well, mostly, there are the occasional blips when an unexpected commuter sits in my seat (How Dare They - ed) and then turn my conscious mind off …

(there is a switch, Auto Snooze (™), between my should blades that if I sit back onto the seat in the right way will be triggered; sending me into a light snooze until the words, “Waterloo, All Change, All Change”, trigger the automatic, Wake Up Sleepy Head (™) function.

This ensures that I get off the train and wimble to work - arguably it should be triggered at Wimble Don(e), as we pass through there on the way into Waterloo, allowing me extra time to gather my senses ...

[Do you really have any senses? - senseless ed]

.. which are by this time scattered amongst the vast area of mind that my unconsciousness encompasses - ed)

...BUT (and that was a big but - wink wink ed), on this particular journey I needed to get off at Woking, which was as you can tell by my slightly worried tone, is Highly Unusual.

GIven the irregularity of this departure point, Train Station Anxiety (™) was triggered, this overrides the my inbuilt Auto Snooze (™) feature and keeping me awake, checking and rechecking the next station that we were going to arrive at.

Luckily, in most South West trains these days (don’t get me started about their software - developer ed) there is a rolling display in most carriages, which, surprisingly tells you not only in which carriage you are in (in this case 3 of 4), the time (though it did go through a phase recently when it was 00:00 at all times - which on a late night trek back home after beers can be quite disconcerting as you wake and snooze, wake and snooze and keep checking the time, to find it still 00;00, believe me, I’ve done this - ed), and perhaps most importantly the displays gives a list of the stations to come, sometimes, but not always, added to by helpful guards letting you know, before you get there, the name of the next station.

(As I sit on the train writing this, “The next station is Farnham”, has been spoken by an automated announcement [perhaps the guard has a sore throat this morning] and the overhead display - ed).

So with all this information being relayed to my non-snoozing brain, getting off at Woking was managed without too much stress (what about the panic when you forgot where you were and thought that the next station was Woking when it was Brookwood - Paxman ed).

I don’t think my readers care about the momentary panics I have over where I am, “Do you Dear Reader, perhaps another glass of wine, or a further plumped up pillow to allow you to be really comfortable whilst reading this post?”

……

Given that this particular post has gone on (far too long in my opinion - ed) and Woking let alone Heathrow still have to be navigated, I have concluded, that too hell with it, there is going to be a Anguish in Aberdeen Part III, (Phone Loss at Heathrow), as that is probably worth recounting, where total calmness and relaxation prior to flight departure was abruptly ruined with the loss of my phone just as the flight was called.

It appears, that my life is really stranger than fiction, I mean I don’t have to make anything up at all (well apart from minor inaccuracies to do the actual time frame of some of the events, 99% of everything I write has happened - Fabrications R Us ed)

……

For the readers I have contacted with respect to using their quotes (naturally out of context, and showing me in a good light - Big Up Davey ed), that post is now in progress and so in the offing.