In 1993 I spent a dreadful four hours just outside Wootton Bassett sitting in a stationary train that should have been taking me from an interview in Bristol back to London.
The train couldn't move because some local chavs had dumped some debris onto the tracks.
Clearly I haven't got over it and still haven't forgiven the place.
The train couldn't move because some local chavs had dumped some debris onto the tracks.
Clearly I haven't got over it and still haven't forgiven the place.
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