This morning I got up at 7.00, which is early for me. My son, his wife, their daughter and I had a plan. We were going to drive down the hill into Chesham, park the car in Sainsbury’s carpark and then walk through the park, up the hill, over the hill, along some lanes, back through old Chesham and then drive home.
And that’s what we did, stopping en route in the park for the small girl to show off her skill on the zip wire, in one field to see if we could spot horses, at two spots along the lane to look for rabbits- we saw two lots - and then in the village to have coffee and pain au chocolat in the cafe.
On our way back to the car we spotted a wooden pallet outside a recycling shop. My daughter-in-law got very excited. She refurbishes (I think the correct modern term in “upcycles”) old furniture and makes new pieces of interesting furniture out of recycled old wood, such as wooden pallets. So we hung around a few minutes waiting for the shop to open so that she could reserve the pallet for her use.
Then we went back to make sure Phil, who did not want to get up at 7.00 am, had actually got up and got himself organised. He had. While he breakfasted, our son and daughter-in-law went off to collect the pallet which had not fitted into the car earlier.
Phil and I had to make sure we had gathered together our bits and bobs so that we could go down into town and catch the 11.00 tube train to Euston Square, in time to connect with our train back to Manchester, in time for Phil to go to chess club this evening.
In the meantime our daughter was sending messages about her plane from Almería to Manchester being late arriving in Almería and consequently delaying their departure. Fortunately they did not have to wait too long. I was concerned that the flight plan fiasco earlier in the week might continue to disrupt their travel plans, but in the end they did not have to wait too long. All went well. They got home safely. She tells me the small boy enjoy looking at clouds from both sides now (courtesy of Joni Mitchell - thank you, Joni!).
Phil and I, on the other hand, arrived in good time at Euston Station. The noticeboard said emphatically, in the appointed slot for 12.33 train the Manchester Piccadilly, WAIT! So we waited! After some time the notice changed slightly, now telling us the train was expected at 12.48, but still bossily telling us to WAIT. It was now about 12.20 so we were not too concerned.
We noticed that 12.15 train to Piccadilly was also delayed. This did not bode well. A few minutes later, the notice for the 12.15 train changed to green, a platform announcement was made and quite how nobody was knocked over in the stampede to reach platform 13 is beyond comprehension.
There was a public announcement informing us that our train was delayed because of points failure somewhere indecipherable. At least we could understand that announcement. Most of the announcements were completely indecipherable but at least this last one, with a female announcer, was easier to understand. Relatively! Surely a better system can be delivered!
Eventually, some 35 minutes after the scheduled time our train set off. The train manager was most apologetic and promises that we would try to catch up on some of the lost. Then, not too far from Stafford, the train stopped again, this time for a further 15 minutes. Comments about the best-laid plans of dogs and men sprang to mind. This time we couldn’t go into the station because the platform we were scheduled to occupy was being used by another train for a short time. An unexpected consequence! Surely someone must have expected it!
(By the way, I forgot to mention our tube train coming to an unplanned stop between stations because of “an object on the track” which staff had to remove before we could proceed.)
After that, all went relatively smoothly, with just a short delay not far from Stockport.
Arriving some 45 or 50 minutes late at Manchester Piccadilly, we hopped almost immediately on a tram going the Bury via ? … yes, via Victoria! … so there is, as I thought, a tram connecting the two stations. At Victoria we waited only a couple of minutes for a tram to Oldham. There our run of good fortune gave up: no bus to Delph for 25 to 30 minutes, we gave in and took a taxi!
We scrambled some eggs and then Phil went off to chess club. There is clearly no rest for the wicked!
Beware of bus and train strikes, faulty points, platform scheduling, and, of course, stray objects on the track!!
Life goes on. Stay safe and well, everyone!
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