Here we go...
Now on the train to Edinburgh after a day of clean up, packing and a lovely pickle tickle from the boyfriend before I make like Harry Potter and take the train from Kings Cross.
It’s as I get to Kings Cross I realize I haven’t downloaded my tickets and the internet in the station is shit so I take my enormous suitcase which I’ve packed a portable rice cooker and food storage stuff in the hopes I will cook more at home this festival. Where the hell do I get my optimism? I will be eating chips constantly in three days.
I go to the Starbucks outside the station and order a chai tea while waiting for my tickets to download on their WiFi.
Once they are downloaded, I head back to the station with a messenger bag, backpack and pushing a suitcase large enough and heavy enough to carry two dismembered bodies while holding the very hot chai with the same hand I am pushing the suitcase with spilling the chai everywhere. My suitcase is drenched in hot tea and my hand is burnt. But I do not let it go. This tea is coming with me on my 4 hour train trip, it is my pacifier, a pacifier that burns my hand. I have an image of me on the train looking carefree with a Starbucks. I am not carefree but I will have the Starbucks dammit.
I pour tea on everything all the way to the station. My suitcase looks like it has been pissed on by a dog from a balcony.
A woman dressed in red and looks like she works for the train line offers to help me with my bag and rearranged everything in the luggage area with the deftness of a Tetris champion and that is when it is apparent she doesn’t work for the train line. She is just another passenger being very kind. Nobody that worked for a train line in this country would be that helpful without an eye-roll and a sigh.
This daily blog will not be checked for punctuation or spelling so forgive me like you do Chortle.