I’m on the Train

My New Year’s Resolution for 2017 was to explore areas of London close to where I live, areas I think I know but where really I have the barest knowledge. I haven’t done terribly well at that but as the year trots to an end I am finally making some progress. However, I have enjoyed some out of town day trips. This started with a trip to Coventry on February, followed by Birmingham, Coventry again, Colchester, Chatham, Ipswich next month and today Walton-on-the-Naze. After a night of rain it’s a fine morning and promises to be warm and sunny. In anticipation of a fair amount of walking I am wearing my boots and I have a packed lunch with me. The train is very long and very empty. I don’t know if it is going to fill up later but I have to change at Thorpe-le-Soken where I have two minutes to make the connection. This train will continue to Clacton. Have I ever been to Clacton? I’m not sure. It may have been the destination for a ramble once, but I have no memory of it. Another one to add to the list. Continue reading


I’m home twenty five hours.

The journey was not one I want to repeat. We were delayed nearly two hours (the flight only lasts around fifty minutes) and there are limited things to do at Belfast International. Plus Cousin and I had stayed up talking late into the night but in the morning her husband left the child/dog gate open so I was awakened by a scrabbling of claws at my bedroom door then an excited Westie Boy licking my face long before my eight hours were achieved.

It could have been worse, Toots and Pip might have been there too; twelve paws pulling at the sheets and fighting over my recumbent form. I got up, and felt ok, but sitting it out at the airport, which is yet to be named after some local luminary  (Belfast City is called George Best airport, and doubtless a beacon in the lives of every one who has subjected their liver to extreme abuse) I could feel tiredness creeping through every pore. Continue reading