Ode to British trains

In which the humble train elicits an ode to it’s awfulness.

I start this standing on a cold platform just outside Coventry waiting with my fellow passengers for an already crowded train. In the proverbial choice I’m in the hard place.

For the past few days I’ve been able to work from the kitchen table while in keep an eye on a poorly Mrs G, the commute downstairs was stress bare but now I’m back to joining the hordes. I know this isn’t fun because I look up and can see ten faces and none of them are smiling.

Yet we all throw ourselves onto the 0714, and it is not devoid of moments of beauty.

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Making conversation on the train

In which I do my best to avoid my fellow commuters.

Sitting in the car, stuck in traffic is horrible. While I listen to the radio I am thankful that I am in my own company and not longer a prisoner of public transport. By driving I am no longer having to take the train and rely on the omnishambles that is the British Rail network. After being a commuter for half a year I came to realise the horror of the daily ride to work. I’ve always been used to travelling alone either by car or foot but being enclosed with other people just highlights my dislike of being a member of the public.

Now though I am back on the rails and commuting into to work via the majesty of the British rail network. This means slow and overcrowded trains and my best impression of being horrendously anti-social so nobody dares to talk to me.
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