Elvis has left the building
Another Thursday, and another journey across the country aboard a long distance train. I now know that the 4pm train out of Preston is the “fast one” – covering the length of the country in a little over two hours.
During the journey from the office to the station, I had the pleasure of listening to the life story of the taxi driver – a gentleman from Delhi who had three daughters, all of whom had now grown up. He told me how his grandchildren were a nightmare, and how his son was a waste of space. He delighted in telling how he had married his daughters off, and that he had become lazy in his old age (he was about 50). His wife was working away from home – they were seperated for the first time in their lives, which was a nightmare because he couldn't cook. She returned at weekends and cooked food to last him the week, but he hadn't been eating it.
The guy sat opposite me just opened quite possibly the loudest bag of crisps in the known universe. There are two businessmen sitting in front of him talking incessantly about nothing in particular – I may have to resort to listening to music to avoid gnawing my own arm off before long. A man in a suit that looks vaguely like Christopher Walken just stood up and leared over everybody in a mysterious manner before lurching off down the train on some secret mission or other. The girl sitting in front of me has a laptop in front of her that she hasn't used. It's been sitting on the desktop screen for the last twenty minutes, complaining about drive shares and network connections.
The train ticket guy appears to be something of a joker. While announcing his impending journey through the train checking tickets in the style of Elvis Presley, he also informed us that checking tickets is nothing personal – it's purely to give him something to do over the next couple of hours.
I'm eating peanut M&Ms. I bought them last night, but didn't eat them. I'm sitting here wondering if the crunching sound that happens in your head is as loud to people sitting nearby.
Christopher Walken is back. Empty handed. I'm wondering where he's been, and what he's been up to. I imagined he would return with a coffee in his hand, but no.
(an hour passes)
We are about half an hour from London now. I've busied myself with watching half a movie, and gazing from the window as the world whistles past outside. I have one more week (in the near future) of making this journey back and forth. Actually – that's not quite correct. As soon as I finish this engagement, I will be almost re-tracing this route the week after for a one day trip. I can't help wondering if this is the life I imagined when I left college all those years ago – spending hours on trains, and days on end away from my family.
A guy just got trapped on the train on the other side of an automatic door. Watching him stare at the glass, expecting it to open on it's own was pretty amusing.
Twenty minutes to go. It feels like a countdown. Then scrabble through the London Underground network to reach Paddington, and on towards home. I imagine I'll reach at about 8pm – it all depends what time the trains leave Paddington, and if the further connecting trains work out en-route. Paddington, Maidenhead, Bourne End, and finally Marlow – then ten minutes walk before immediately switching the washing machine on.
Can't wait to see my family.