Portsmouth Adventure

Dear George,

How the heck are you?  I hope this isn't a bad time and i haven't caught you on the toilet or in the shower.  Right now it is cloudless night, 9*C with a slight breeze in the air.  My train to work was 3 minutes late and the price of a first class stamp is 46p.  Also, it may interest you to know that i am currently on a train to Portsmouth…

…Yes that's right i'm in mid-adventure, i'm not sure when i'll get this out but i will asap.

I can hear you now mate:

"Why are you on a train, on a Saturday night, instead of using your rare evening off to go out and party.  Maybe go hang out with your sister who has made an unexpected trek up to our capital for this weekend only."

Well i'll tell you why.  It's because it's Christmas (well nearly Christmas) and i will be spending nearly and all free time making my rounds to all friends and acquaintances to wish them a pleasant festive season. The reason you may have detected a little sarcasm in my words is down to the fact that these friends of mine are more friends of friends, well more friends of Sophie's, and as much as  have grown to love them all and think of them as mates, i am still irritated greatly by the notion that i am making this brief (brief as i will be returning home Sunday afternoon) round trip to share turkey and mince pies with a gaggle of girls who's relentless topic of conversation is marriage and popping out babies…  And i have just been told, there will be no mince pies!…Oh what is there's to be done?…

…Hello again!  For you the reader this has been mere seconds but for me it has been roughly 48 hours since i wrote the above passage.  Well what can i say…the Christmas dinner was wonderful.  roast turkey with all the trimmings, cheese cake for pudding, rounded off with tea and mince pies.  The company was heavenly, the conversation floated from topic to topic, never settling, always flowing, i didn't want it to end.  so naturally i feel a real shit for the above prediction.  If that was my first taste of Christmas this year, it has left my mouth watering for more…

…That was until i had to get the train back to London.  It was a Sunday so i'm sure you can imagine what a nightmare journey that was.  Three words "RAIL REPLACEMENT BUSES".  I won't talk about the limping back up the country that was my return to London, mainly because i want to save all my public transport criticism for a blog entry all to itself.  And besides, it really was a lovely Sunday.  Sure i got none of the things done i wanted to do.  Washing still needs to be washed and put away, the carpets still need hoovering and eel letters still need to be read, but i did get to wear a silly paper crown, eat my weight in poultry and blame my farts on the small children on the table behind me.

Take care buddy,

Yours,

Little Dave