Purgatory at Victoria

My lovely wife made me a flask of tea to drink on the train. I however left home without drinking the tea nor remembering the flask. A dispiriting scene at Brighton station, as there were problems further up the line. Eventually one left late, and crammed, for London but luckily I was a mere 20 minutes late to work. My place had been moved overnight, and the computer on my new desk wouldn't let me in. This eventually resolved, I got a fair amount done this morning but was forced to idle in the afternoon away as there was no brief.

My mood much better too. At lunch I took a stroll around the neighbourhood, thinking of Bob who I have met in this area quite often, except at night and punctuated by refreshments. I lurked under the looming British Telecom Tower, and into the grand Fitzroy Square, where the wind blew fallen gold plane tree leaves from the large private garden in the middle. London is a leafy place.

Left work early at 5:45. But caught the world's slowest bus ten minutes later and went down the capitalist wonderland that is Oxford Street. Got to Victoria Station at 6:40. A ghastly Dantesque scene of frustrated,  anxious people. And no trains going South.

Delays and cancellations for the next few hours. I sat in the station's Wetherspoons bar, nursing two slow pints and trying to read a play by Ionesco. Then I bought a vegetable bean burger and fries from Burger King, I ambled through the crowds to the counter, but barely escaped with my life. I turned around to see a collection of people experiencing exophthalmos, an eye bulging condition, but it turned out this was the irate queue and I was rapidly becoming a hate figure. Train hell turns everyone crazy. There was a scuffle in the bar toilet too, somebody barging into someone else. Eventually at nine a train that went near Brighton announced.

Reached home at 10:30pm after a walk from Preston Park station beside the park. Here my lovely wife made me a cup of tea, and listened to me moan weakly, and Calliope bit me reproachfully a few times for lateness, and soon it was time for bed again.

Below the purgatory of rail passengers.