Ah Berwick - the old standby...

I am at Doncaster station. I don't know why I am here.

It was not intended.

I should be in Grantham.

Not Doncaster.

Grantham - where the grocer's daughter came from.

The announcer - with far better diction than that one in York who soundtracked the beginning of my woes - keeps talking about Scunthorpe and I can only think of one thing.

Well two.