London

I remember once, not really so long ago, when if you wanted to go from Manchester to London, you could simply book a train. But the snowballing shitstorm - arising from rail privatisation under the previous Tory government, in conjunction with the last twelve years under the current one - might have been slow to get started but has now achieved a horrible momentum.

Currently, the most reliable way to go from Manchester to London is, absurdly, via Leeds, but even that was a fraught adventure. We arrived just after eleven, as planned in order to give ourselves plenty of contingency for the 11:45, only to find that was cancelled. The 10:15 was still sat calmly at its platform, exuding such an air of unhurriedness that we opted for the 11:15.

We found unreserved seats, discovered that the conductor was pleasantly unperturbed by our train-hopping, but still suffered a delay while we waited for permission to proceed down a part of the line from which "the cable" had been stolen. Good grief.

Once we were in London, though, everything was fine. We dropped our bags at the hotel, met up with Dan (my son), Wol (my brother), and Ash (my good friend), and had a couple of pints before the Minx, Wol, Dan, and I took the train down to Worcester Park for a curry with my folks, sister-in-law and niece. 

So, a lovely day in the end, but one can hardly look forward to the trip home!