Dear George,
Today I am travelling the length of the
country to a wee town on the boarder of England and Wales called
Knighton for the 30th birthday celebrations of my great
mate James. It is journey that, if i'm honest, have been dreading.
I will be travelling by train, and since the Olympic torch left our
shores the public transport system has returned to its relaxed
attitude towards the thronging mass that is the British public,
already today I have had to ride a rail replacement bus. National
rail enquires told me it would take roughly 6 hours, and at the price
of £72 return (would be £168 if i'd hadn't booked my tickets in
advanced!).
I find my seat and within moments I
tense up. 3 Australians, each with enough luggage to make a touring
diva blush, begin the process of loading up all available space around
us.
Further back I notice a flock of
football supporters. Is flock the right word? What is the collective
noun for football supporters?
It has been brought to our collective
attention that coach D, the coach i'm travelling in is the silent
coach, so sadly I won't be podcasting as much as I'd have liked.
So far I have been travelling for
roughly two and a half hours and have only just left London. This is
the third train of the day and I have two more to go.
The Ozzies are slumbering peacefully in
the seats around me, the Arsenal fans are quiet also. However a
middle aged lady is cackling away behind us, necking plastic cups of
white wine.
I make it to Crewe where I will change
trains and head to Shrewsbury...
Travelling almost 4 hours now!
Weather is bright and sunny, and a wee bit nippy. A first class stamp cost 60p
Write to you soon buddy
Yours
Little Dave
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