Ahoy there

Goodness me - I'm back.  I missed a few post of late.  No justifiable reason for this really - just the usual old indolence.  And there's been plenty to set down in during the interregnum.  I had one of those busy weekends the normal people claim to enjoy.  And do you know what?  It was great.

Firstly, I went to Ireland's Rugby World Cup curtain-raiser versus Canada in Cardiff on Saturday.  The Millennium Stadium, the game, the crowd, even the weather, Wales in September ferchrissakes, was perfect.  The trains, on the other hand, were a fucking shambles.  Like a fool, I shelled-out for a first class ticket, thinking that at least might guarantee me a seat on what was certain to be a busy train.  And in fairness to South West Trains, I can't be sure it didn't, because I didn't get near my designated train of departure.  I was too busy queueing up outside the station with thirty-thousand other disgruntled souls.

I joined the throng at ten past six.  And we all stood there (man, woman, young, old, fat, thin) in stony-faced silence until 8.15 in the pm.  At that point I was among the chosen few who was given the opportuntiy to fight his way onto a train and home to his loved ones.  And I did actually get into a first-class carriage - the luggage rack of one to be specific.  Two hours and forty minutes later, we trundled into the capital.  The relief was palpable, especially to my back, which didn't much care for the cramped conditions.

I received a spam email South West Trains the following morning, trumpeting its new corporate rebrand, which they, with scant regard for the laws of irony, dubbed "a return to the golden age of rail".  Piss is golden, isn't it?  Perhaps that's what they're alluding to.

Wankers.