Going Home

We set off on the most beautiful day and travelled though the flat green fields of Norfolk and Lincolnshire.

J remembered that we were entitled to use the LNER first class lounge in London, which was nice for the about 15 minutes we were in it.  The train left promptly – due to works on the line (or lines?) – it went by the strangest route I have ever seen.  London -> York -> Newcastle -> Carlisle -> Edinburgh -> Falkirk -> Stirling -> Perth -> Inverness – a real magical mystery tour!  Unfortunately the train was absolutely packed again.

We stopped for a longish planned stop near Carstairs junction.  The weather had been deteriorating all the way up, and it was now raining and gusting with wind.  The low sullen hills were grey and brown, bleak and heather covered.  Just behind us the sinister bulk of the prison loured through the gloom.   There was an American couple sitting next to us, and I speculated on whether they still thought that leaving the soft South for Scotland had been such a good idea.

We arrived bang on time.  I was very tired of trains by that point – due to the congestion there had been no where to stretch my legs without kicking J, and as we were are the window and pinned in by other people we couldn’t stand up and move about.  So yes, we were bang on time in both directions, and yes, it was better than flying.  In fact if the train hadn’t been so packed it would have been a lot of fun, but on balance I wish we had taken the car.

Saphy was pleased to see J back, and although they didn’t say much I think both Amber and R were happy to see me.