2 November 2016, 6.30 am
With huge delight, I embark on my first London visit for several months. My heart soars as I follow the orange-pink opening of the sky up the M5. By the time I take my place on the station platform, I am virtually ecstatic. The delight, the soaring heart and the ecstasy are of course literary devices and nothing whatsoever to do with the truth, which is that by the time the train diesels its big, black bulk into the station, I am ready to diesel myself under it. I find myself a seat in a smelly carriage, there being no non-smelly carriages on this particular train, and try to catch up on sleep. I am back on the London commute. Thrice yay!
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