Blue sky and sunny this morning in London.
In a much improved mood despite a ghastly journey to work. No trains at all from Kew Gardens but was told there would be some at ten o'clock. Deciding not to be stressed by this I enjoyed a coffee and a read of my paper as I foolishly waited for the Kew Gardens station to reopen. I returned to the station where they said they actually meant one o'clock in the afternoon when they said ten earlier. Then walked to Chiswick Park after an empty bus zoomed past me despite my waving at it in the approved manner from the bus stop. At Chiswick Park there was no staff and only one machine worked. One guy after queuing for his ticket got to the gate to read about how half the line wasn't working and shouted "I fucking hate the tube" and looked like he was going to burst into tears. Such is the stress travelling places on us from time to time. And the funny thing is that it is so familiar to everyone that travel stories are like hearing about other people's dreams -- really boring.
Bike saga continues. Someone had given my bike six punctures as it was chained outside the pool. Spent an hour repairing it on sunday afternoon only to have it puncture instantly as soon as I put it back on the bike. Grrrr. Felt a John Cleese moment of wanting to stamp on it repeatedly. Have overcome this -- for now.
In a much improved mood despite a ghastly journey to work. No trains at all from Kew Gardens but was told there would be some at ten o'clock. Deciding not to be stressed by this I enjoyed a coffee and a read of my paper as I foolishly waited for the Kew Gardens station to reopen. I returned to the station where they said they actually meant one o'clock in the afternoon when they said ten earlier. Then walked to Chiswick Park after an empty bus zoomed past me despite my waving at it in the approved manner from the bus stop. At Chiswick Park there was no staff and only one machine worked. One guy after queuing for his ticket got to the gate to read about how half the line wasn't working and shouted "I fucking hate the tube" and looked like he was going to burst into tears. Such is the stress travelling places on us from time to time. And the funny thing is that it is so familiar to everyone that travel stories are like hearing about other people's dreams -- really boring.
Bike saga continues. Someone had given my bike six punctures as it was chained outside the pool. Spent an hour repairing it on sunday afternoon only to have it puncture instantly as soon as I put it back on the bike. Grrrr. Felt a John Cleese moment of wanting to stamp on it repeatedly. Have overcome this -- for now.
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