Left for Birmingham and the train stopped on the track en route for an hour and twenty mins without moving. Tried to use the time usefully to write poetry but there was no Adlestrop moment.

Sitting in the Virgin train no such luck. No gasp of real air or any sound of a bird, only people moaning intermittently into their mobile phones.

Arrived in a sweaty dishevelled state. Then wandered into a vast stale soulless caverns full of blokes in suits talking earnestly about trucks and vans. Later went out with Catherine and Nerissa to fork down a Chinese meal laden with msg and talked earnestly about anything other than trucks and vans. Had set up meetings in the evening but they didn't happen. Instead had a pint of mild in the sordid station bar. And chatted to the girls. Very nice they are too, C with a dreadful tale of a spate of crime against her. A robbery, an intruder in her house, then another robbery by a crackhead who left a bloody teeshirt there, and was then caught through DNA tests. All in the space of a three months. Finally a stone was put through her window. She is very resillient.

But the best thing about Birmingham is leaving it. Preferably at high speed. Finally got back to Kew where both N and me live, at one in the morning. Our cab driver exploding into such a spate of comedically heartfelt and violent swearing at the fact our road was blocked that we couldn't help laughing. An apt end to tiresome day.