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PhilDAS
Ndeipi
Yesterday was a fail.
I wanted to go buy a fancy Columbus MAX frame in Warwickshire and sneak in a cheeky (but rainy) ride with some old mates in Leamington Spa. I achieved neither.
I had it all planned out. So I woke in the dark, and cycled so bravely through the cold & rain to Marylebone station. I know, give me a cookie, etc. But I foolishly did not wear waterproofs, and soon regretted it.
I was uncharacteristically rather early for the first train.
I bought a ticket and sat in my wet cycling clothes. The station was anything but warm.
I watched, shivering, as at the last minute my train changed from "On Time" to "Cancelled". Oh bollocks. Goodbye train #1.
After consulting the station staff, I decided to wait another half hour for train #2 which apparently "should run".
Miraculously train #2 did actually depart, albeit late. The warmth inside was a relief.
We got halfway to Warwickshire, then....
BING BONG. This is your driver. Unfortunately for you poor shits the train will terminate at the next station, Princes Risborough. This is due to the flooding that we have surely known about about for hours. Please depart this vehicle, which is also the only warm place for miles. Bad luck and farewell.
On the platform, whilst being pelted by sideways rain, I wondered if I'd now have to start a new life in the Chilterns. I can't even drive a tractor. I'd have no chance.
An apologetic rail employee explained that the tracks northwards were totally flooded. Luckily, train #2 was actually going straight back to London so I could hop back on. "And your ticket will still be valid for the journey back". My chortles were muffled by my damp facemask.
So back onto trusty train #2, back to Marylebone, and I cycled homewards. I didn't want to arrive home with nothing to show for my 3-4 hours of faff so I grabbed beers en route to rescue my morale.