Friday 6th February 2026

Time to go home.

And somehow I managed to get some 11 hours sleep or snoozing.

I finally got up at quarter past eight, and made a brew.

The last act is to pack, look round the room several times to make sure I hadn't forgotten anything.

That done, I close the door and drag my case along the endless corridors, up and down the stairs as the lift still hadn't been fixed.

I couldn't face their piss-poor breakfast, so I take the lift down to the street, saving lugging the case down five flights of stairs, and out into the grey, wet morning.

I wasn't really hungry, so pondered breakfast, but decided I would get something at the buffet on the station. I would also not get a taxi, so walk the fifteen minutes through town, past the Alehouse and up the slight hill to the station.

There was no buffet.

And I had fifty five minutes to kill.

So I listened to a podcast and tried to ignore the damp chill.

Trains to Worcester came and left, and then the little two car train came for me. About half a dozen others got on, and on time at half ten, it rattled out and up the branch line, but taking the chord to join the main line southbound, passing through Warwick until we reached Leamington Spa.

I had twenty minutes, so managed to get a panini and a coffee, finishing those off before the train arrived. Another rake of mk 3s being pushed by a roaring 68.

I got a seat facing back, and again the views out of the window were grey drizzle, but the valley around Banbury were now flooded much more, and the meandering river in the middle, lost from view.

All was going well until we came to a halt at High Wycombe, where we were not supposed to stop.

A freight train had broken down somewhere in the London area, blocking the line.

We were to be kicked off at Gerrards Cross, sadly, one stop short of the end of the Underground at West Ruislip.

Instead of being just left there, another train was going to collect us from the other, down, platform.

So the 40 or so of us, all climb over the footbridge to fill the platform.

Then came the announcement that the train was now back over on the up platform.

So we all climb back over the footbridge, and by the time we reached the platform, the train was there. It would run fast into Marylebone as the freight train had been moved.

So it was we arrived at Marylebone some 40 minutes late, which might be a good thing for me.

I went down to the Bakerloo, went one station to Baker Street, then changed onto a Circle Line train to St Pancras.

Up to the station and rushing past the Eurostar queues, up to the Southeastern platform, where a direct train to Dover was leaving in ten minutes.

I showed my ticket and was allowed onto the platform, walked to the front of the station and got a seat.

Phew.

Last leg of the trip, made exciting by a drugged up scrote in the seat behind me, doing deals on his phone and swearing. Then it turned out he had no ticket so was subject to a £100 fine on top of his ticket. He whined to his mate on the phone how the guy was screaming at him, which wasn't the truth.

He got off at one of the Folkestone stations, and peace returned to the carriage.

Jools was waiting, so after loading the case, she drove me home, and once inside we had a huge brew.

Dinner was battered sausage and chips from the chippy, that Jools went to get. And we were all done by six ready for the quiz.

I came second, which was nice.

The case was emptied, dirty washing in the basket and camera battery set to charge.

And it was the weekend.

And football to watch, with Leeds thrashing Forest 3-0.

Happy days.