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I sat next to a young lady with purple hair who was reading a book. Unfortunately, when I sat down I hadn't realised she had a stinking cold.
It's bad form to move and cause offence, so I ensured that I was never facing her while she was breathing in my direction. She eventually fell asleep facing forward, so that resolved the problem.
Actually, I forgot my season ticket today, so I had to purchase a day return.
I had treated myself to a new rucksack on Sunday, and while transferring all my bits and bobs from the old one, I forgot the special little pocket that houses the season ticket and my security pass.
Picked up a computer on the way to work so was later getting the train.
Waiting for the bus a TGV pulled into the station, all of 6 feet away from me. Impressive suspension units in between the (very closely joined) carriages.
If I hadn't had the computer with me I would have hopped onto the TGV back to where I came from, just for the ride.
The beauty of season tickets is that it doesn't cost extra to do that.
Behold the warranty -- the bold print giveth and the fine print taketh away.
I noticed this morning that our Wales and West box car unit was sporting a brand new livery depicting famous landmarks that lie on the Cheltenham to Weymouth line.
There's Bath's Royal Crescent, BOA Saxon church and Cheap St in Frome plus many others.
Why they decided to include Trowbridge, however, is beyond me.
Nicer than the old blue and maroon colour combo though.
I noticed this morning that our Wales and West box car unit was sporting a brand new livery depicting famous landmarks that lie on the Cheltenham to Weymouth line.
There's Bath's Royal Crescent, BOA Saxon church and Cheap St in Frome plus many others.
Why they decided to include Trowbridge, however, is beyond me.
Nicer than the old blue and maroon colour combo though.
First they took our platform tickets, then they cleared us off Lickey Bank in the name of prevention of terrorism and , this morning as I pulled out of Bath Spa, I saw that the final nail has been driven into the coffin of the local gricing scene.
As the train emerged from the ornate retaining walls of the cutting that passes through Sydney Gardens I glanced up to the spot that serves as the best vantage point to experience the thrill of an incoming express train or an outbound service thrashing it's way up to full revs letting out clouds of clag in the process.
And what I saw saddened me deeply for across the stretch of fence, through which we craned our necks to get the first view of the train as it emerged from the sweeping curve on the entrance to Sydney Gardens, was attached a length of corrugated iron extending from knee height to somewhere way north of my head height.
This must explain why I've seen groups of men on all fours in Sydney Gardens as I've passed on my recumbent bike. It's the only way to get a view. Sadly, I shan't be joining in as it would play havoc with my water on the knee.
Yes, that's right. I'm roaming the British rail network on a daily basis to earn my crust so you'll all be delighted to hear that you can catch up with my thrills and spills on these very pages.
This is my daily schlepp: WSM - Bath Spa (change) - Salisbury (change) - Andover (where I have a new gig with Twinings Teas!).
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