I barely made it on time for my train to Leicester tonight. I had to rely on the goodwill of an evil frenchman to give me a lift to Cambs after one of the servers died 15 minutes before I was supposed to leave for a 4-day weekend. When I got to the station, I found out that a freight train had broken down on the way into Cambs and that a lof of the outgoing traffic was going to be delayed. I got lucky though, and my train was only slightly delayed (which for Central Trains, is a miracle in and of itself). I was only supposed to come down tomorrow, but it was more important that I come give moral support to my sweetie than lust over Pink Floyd memorabilia that I couldn't afford anyway.
The train ride was fairly routine. Egg and bacon sandwiches from the M&S outlet at the station and a book for reading. There was a guide dog named Ivan in the alleyway next to me – so cute. One point along the way, I started looking outside for a while. You have to give it its due – the English countryside can be really pretty at times, with freshly cut fields getting ready for harvest, rolling green hills and a red-sun-at-night sunset. Every time I travel along that line, I always think that I really should bring my camera, but I always forget. Poo.