Categories: uncategorized
Date: 19 September 2005 20:48:07
Lady Godiva, I mean. It turned out quite sunny after all! I worked my way round the rail network, shedding layers as I went. And I'm delighted to say the trains ran like clockwork give or take a few minutes here and there. Greatly enlivened by the ticket inspector on the return leg who might have been a Butlin's redcoat in a previous life as he joked his way up and down the aisles. Perhaps he was one - as even the public announcements had a certain quirky quality about them. Viz: 'Ladies and gentlemen. We are now approaching...(hesitation as he wonders where the heck we are) Leamington Spa! Please change here for ???' 'Ladies and gentlemen. This is to inform you that we have two pasties and one bacon sandwich available in the buffet.' (!)
I was tempted to ask him how they were on the gin and tonic front - if it wasn't for the thought of the likely effect on my bladder after one too many station coffees. And after the family visits which were not good, not bad, but 'as expected.' After some hours of listening, listening, listening, I felt like a cross between a dried up sponge and a piece of old-fashioned and perishing knicker elastic. What can you do when the conversation - or more often the monologue, goes round and round the same old topics, and when no immediate solution seems apparent? When you're never quite sure what's true, what's not, and what's somewhere inbetween? You start to wonder just who is sane and who's not.
It (the knicker elastic syndrome) even followed me as I tried to have a breather and an egg sandwhich on the benches in the shopping precinct near the cathedral. (No time to visit the latter unfortunately). An elderly, scruffy and distinctly whiffy gentleman plonked himself down nearby and proceeded to engage me in conversation. To be more accurate, he waffled on about this that and the next thing; the woeful state of the world today, World War II etc etc. Refused my offer of a sandwhich. Just wanted to talk to someone. From the state of him I'd suspect he probably lived in a similar place to SIL, if not 'in the community,'but seemed relatively harmless. Ah well.
On the sunnier side - thanks go to the odd other fellow traveller for a few laughs: The lady with the Paterdale terrier on the return journey, (As fellow rare breed owners we had a good chat). The lady opposite on the way out and our giggles over a departed fellow passenger's reading matter. Should we tell him he'd left his girly mag behind or not? I gave this serious consideration for all of a minute then reluctantly returned to my reading on OT and NT connections, montheism, polytheism and goodnessknowswhateism. And of course, Mr Redcoat and his pasties.