A Fresh Start

As I mentioned in my middle-of-the-night post I quite literally didn’t get a wink of sleep last night. Not one.

I got to Norwich station - after abandoning a “dawn” photo safari - at a quarter to eight. I know my cheapskate ticket’s not valid until 9:30 but I had to make an alteration.

Even though it’s an “open” ticket, to be used within a month of the original travel date, I noticed last night that the outward half was only valid on 31st May.

“How much to change this ticket so I can use it today? Would it be cheaper to get a new single?” I asked Claire at the ticket office.

“Let’s see.”

It cost £27.60 to change the ticket. £27.60? The original return was only £36.40!

“How about a single?”

“£35.”

That’s just outrageous.

I’m sitting, then, outside Bonaparte’s café/bar where Selina¹ happily relieved me of a large wedge of cash in return for a large, black coffee. Ok, ok. £1.85. Still, it’s a good vantage point for a spot of people-watching. Nothing pervy, you understand, even if most of the young ladies seem to have dressed ready for a heatwave. No, I just like sitting back and watching the world go by.

It’s 8:35 and the last trainload of schoolkids discharges its contents like a tide of dark green semolina. A bustle of bodies and they’re gone, as relative calm descends across the concourse. I can hear the auitomated messages over the tannoy over the music playing in my ears - can hear that there are messages rather than the content of the announcements. That said, I’m not convinced they’d be much clearer if I removed my earphones. I’m still surprised and a little disappointed that the “buiilding blocks” of the messages are so obvious to spot (I know I’ve … mentioned this … before).

Sitting at the next table, Tattooed Man has found a young acquaintance and they’re blethering away in strong Norfoklkian. Again, I’m not hearing the words - I am trying to lsten to ‘Parade’ after all.

8:40 and the Aaalburgh train’s in - I recognise a few familiar faces. It’s been a while since I caught the train to work. Not since I had the problems that led to the HappyPills^TM, in fact. I could do with the exercise of walking to and from the orifice (even if I drive to the station in Aaalburgh) but am not convinced I could cope well with the crush of people - one of the reasons I’ve been getting into work later on the Park’n'Ride is that the buses are quieter and, by waiting for a full bus to leave, I can grab a quiet corner seat.

I know that the idea of Too Many Strangers is still causing some problems based on my ‘discomfort’ this morning. I won’t go into any more detail, but I’m now wondering whether it was a coincidence that I spent the night being sick last week when I was first due to travel to London.

I know what you’re thinking - if strangers are a problem, why on earth am I going on a coach tour of Norway in a fortnight’s time? I’m afraid I don’t have an answer to that - I’m getting a little concerned myself.

Anyway, looking around the outdoor seating there are three other tables occupied. One clearly has three students. They may as well be wearing I Am A Student badges although it’s the ridiculous goatee beard on the boy that gives the game away. There’s a lone grey haired man … sorry, another lone grey haired man scribbling in a notebook. Copy-cat. Next to him are a couple of young ladies, one of whom is in danger of losing her muffin down that low-cut top. No, that’s not a euphemism.

I’d assumed that this happy throng were all waiting for their cheapskate tickets to become valid but no. The students left at a quarter to nine, meandering slowly towards a lecture, I suspect (as the pubs won’t be open just yet). Five minutes later Tattooed Man, his friend and the two young ladies suddenly acknowledged each other’s existence, stood and left together muttering something about “another day another dollar”. I’m intrigued to know what sort of establishment has a dress code lax enough for the men to work there.

Nearly nine o’clock and my coffee mug’s empty. That’s a lot of caffeine but I don’t feel that it’s done much to combat the tiredness - I’m still scribbling drivel, after all.

Selina’s come to clear tables but stays away from me and my empty mug. Probably doesn’t trust herself around me. Yes, that’ll be it. She’s mistaken my where’s-my-bed eyes for come-to-bed eyes.

The train journey was uneventful. A buxom young lady sitting across the aisle from me made a point of giving out her email address (and, by doing so, her name) over the phone but I was too tired to take the hint and make a note of it. I hope she won’t be too distraught at the lack of contact. I tried out the TV dooberry but there was no reception whatsoever inside the carriage. Doesn’t bode well for my idea of watching Germany v Costa Rica on the way home tomorrow evening. Bah.

I found the London orifice easily enough but where’s the sunny day I’d left behind? The Big City is grey and overcast. Bah. The afternoon’s training went well (especially after I regaled Fred and Les with my correspondence with Nemesis). Very well, in fact, and we covered a lot more than I’d expected. This means we can play with goodies tomorrow (goodies in a work sense rather than taking in etch-a-sketch or the like). I tried to get TV reception in the orifice but had no luck there. If I’d not been able to pick up a signal here in my 5* hotel I’d have assumed I’d broken something.

A little excitement, though, to end my day (I know it’s only twenty past six but I’ve been awake since seven o’clock yesterday morning, ok? ). A text conversation with Stubby.

U ok u weren’t in work! Hope all is ok

You missed me?! You’ve made my year, Stubby. I’m ok (tired, because I didn’t sleep last night). I’m in a 5* hotel in London on expenses Sorry I didn’t get the chance to chat yesterday - if you’re not busy this weekend we could go out for a drink’n'chat?

I’m watching football sat & bon jovi concert sun! Glad u r ok was concerned,

Lunch one day next week?

Yeah cool

All that excitement’s tired me out even more. I’m off to bed without any supper … hopefully I’ll wake bright and early to a glorious morning, in which case I’ll be off to the Tower of London for some early morning shots.

¹ Of an age to suggest that her father ‘appreciated’ waking up to Selina Scott.on the TV