To the North
After dosing myself up with all manner of medication over the last few days, I had to make a decision on travelling for work this morning. Going against the thoughts of my other half, but based on the fact that I have been getting better each day, I packed my bag.
The walk to the train station was entirely uneventful, save for noticing this sign, and smiling. I'm always aware that we are the only country in the world that uses this turn of phrase. I'm not sure when they started painting these in a new typeface though (obviously using stencils). They have always been yellow in the past too.
One of the nice things about travelling during the day is the absence of other passengerswhich invariably means you get a seat on train too. One of the downsides to travelling during the day is that the trains stop everywhere, and invariably fill to the rafters too. For the first part of the journey myself and a pretty girl sat diagonally opposite each other, sharing a group of 4 seatswithin a few stops we had both been crammed together by people seemingly wearing twenty coats each, and carrying immense shopping bags.
As we edged closer to London, the weather unleashed another attempt to submerge everybody and everything, but seemed to lose interest after a while. We eventually arrived, and the train emptied itself in spectacular fashionwith the usual game being played where old people make sure they are off first, and then get in everybody elses way while the ponderously amble towards the main part of the station.
Paddington underground stationparticularly the circle line platformhas become an old friend. The years of early mornings and late evenings travelling through here have made it somehow comforting. Very strange.
After burrowing our way across London to Kings Cross, we finally left London behind, and raced off across the countrysideheading northnot before a bit of panic though. While sitting on the Leeds bound train on platform 3 of Kings Cross station, the train guard read out notices to the passengersamong them;“Please note that saver and super saver tickets are not valid on this service. If you no not have a valid ticket for this service, you will be expected to pay the full ticket price for the correct ticket on-board the train”.
I checked my ticket, and sure enoughit was the super saver ticket. The one sold to me when I boarded the first train of my journey. The one the guy selling tickets had checked. I almost got off the train, but then thought “no I'll get a refund if I have to”.
A few minutes into the journey the guard appeared in my carriage, and made his was along, checking and stamping tickets as he went. I showed him my ticket and started talking.“I think I've been sold the wrong ticket”He glanced at it.“Nothat's fineyour ticket was bought outside of London”.
I smiled, shrugged, and shook my head. Quite how the place you buy a ticket from can make any difference to it's validity is anybody's guess. Thankfully the rest of the journey was far less stressful, or uncertain.
After walking through the back streets of Leeds to find my hotel, I immediately called home, before dropping everything and heading out in search of food. The pub next to the hotel was reasonable, and had televisions at each tablethe first time I have ever seen that I'm guessing at night it's the pub to watch football at. I ate my food, downed a drink (which I shouldn't have, given the precarious state of my throat), and wandered back to the hotel.
The hotel is the cheapest I have ever stayed inand while it's functional in the extreme (you can see how everything has been designed for efficiency), it's clean, and everything seems to work. Given that all I typically need is an internet connection, I'm laughingit's the first hotel I've stayed at in some time that has free wifi.