I was trying to read my book Rum old buoys (an East Anglian Classic) but was being constantly irritated by some chavs repeat playing distorted video on their phones and calling mate to advise how "pissed off" they were because it was raining.
The tube journey to Liverpool St was smooth and I managed to resist the urge of the golden arches and a brew to find myself sitting on my suit case on a train to Clacton via Colchester. The 23:30 to Norwich had been cancelled. Standing next to me were three 'rum old' suffolk lads, late 30s and tucking into the smelliest cornish pasties possible. They weren't happy with having to change at Colchester (to get to Ipswich presumably) - this led to a conversation about "shouting down" Col U fans in the work place, as well as a convo about a hatred of Spurs FC. This man who hated Spurs put it down to his fathers love of the Gunners and that was it. What seemed like the slowest train in Europe arrived in Colchester sometime before 1am - after 2 days on the road it was good to be back.
1 comment:
"it wasn't the train which was bad... my journey back coincided with the Big Brother eviction so it was full of .... how do we say it ..... C2,D/E's."
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA... LOL. Outrageous. Outrageous.
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