So, back in Bim after a very hectic but fun family vacation and finally able to make some time to give you Part 2 of my epic travel saga…..What, you thought Grantley Adams was it?? Anyway, having chatted up the lady at the check-in desk earlier and gotten myself a free upgrade (which rendered all of the drama that came afterwards null and void) I was able to stretch out and enjoy my 8 ½ hour flight to the UK in relative comfort. I believe my exact words were “If you feel overwhelmingly compelled to upgrade me, just relax, I won’t object”. Hey, it worked. Upon arrival at Gatwick I quickly cleared immigration and customs and hopped on a rather crowded rush-hour train to London Victoria station, where I then changed trains onward to Blackheath, my final destination. I must say, I really enjoyed the scenery along the way and as the train began to slow down coming into the station I gathered my bags and stood at the door waiting excitedly to disembark. Unfortunately, having not done this for five years I completely forgot that you have to manually open the doors in order to enter/exit, so as the train finally stopped I stood there patiently waiting for the door to open, thinking to myself “bloody hell this is taking forever” when suddenly we started to move again. Of course, I’m thinking “WTF is going on!” so I began looking around frantically for some kind of answer when a guy sitting behind me says “you have to push the green button mate” Well let me tell you, as a mark of my sincere gratitude for his impeccable timing in imparting that bit of wisdom to me, I was oh so tempted to quietly remove my shoe and beat him to death with it. “You-wait-till-de-rh-train-lef-de-rh-station-to-tell-me-dat-like-rh?” Fortunately for him I was able to maintain my composure and just stand there motionless in the doorway all the way to the next station, at which point I dragged my sorry ass and all of my bags off the train, all the way to the far end of the platform, up about a hundred steps, across a bridge to the platform on the other side, down another hundred steps and onto the platform to await the next train. As I stood there waiting for the train to arrive I couldn’t help but wonder just why it is that my wife hates travelling with me so much, it can be such an adventure sometimes.
Posted on: Mon, 21 Jul 2014 10:17:25 +0000
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