Trains are better than cars. They just are.
I had a lovely weekend, on the whole, but travel-wise, everything I touched turned to dust.
On Saturday, I pitched up at Paddington on my way to Reading to pick up the girls, only to find that the line was closed. Much of the trip was by bus. :-( My usual two hour trip turned into a three and a half hour trek. (On the way back, I came via Clapham Junction, which was marginally faster.)
On Sunday, Michael, the girls and I drove down to Brighton in the A4 he's borrowed from his boss. (The verdict? A hairdressers car.) What a mistake. Google reckoned on a little over an hour for the trip, but we factored in the bank holiday, and doubled it. We weren't even close; it took us four and a quarter hours. Nightmare.
We had a really nice time once we were there, though - beach, picnic, paddling, pier, funfair, ice cream, you know the kind of thing. Half-naked women are always a bonus, too. The trip back was much easier - about two and a half hours.
On Monday, the girls and I left for Reading early. Cath wanted to take them to Mapledurham for a civil war reenactment, and there were still no trains out of Paddington. It turned out to be more of a skirmish than a battle. A brawl, even. Still, the girls were suitably impressed by the guns. Their new little brother Ruben wasn't so keen.
By the time I'd trekked back home again, I'd clocked up over eighteen hours in transit over the three day weekend. No wonder I'm so knackered.
Oh, and trains are better than cars 'cos even if they are horribly delayed, you can entertain your children and let them go to the loo, cutting down on the strop count considerably.
Anyway, pictures here.
Posted to Apropos of nothing by Simon Brunning at May 03, 2005 04:15 PMOf all the ungrateful...( cue clenched fist waving ).
*Simon*, as a baldy bloke without a driving licence you're in no position to preside judgement on what consitutes a hairdresser's car.
It is a lovely looking car though, particularly with the roof down, a bit slow with the weight of a picnic more suitable to the civil war re-enacters, but it's just a car, and trains do rock ( in theory ).
Brighton? On a bank holiday weekend? Are you mad? I'm surprised it *only* took four hours. And Ii'm with Michael, when you learn to drive you can start to critique cars.
Until then I'll be playing the part of Jeremy Clarkson if you don't mind.
Having said that, by definition anyone who drives a convertible in the UK has to stand accused of hairdressing tendencies.
Nice pictures, did you have your thermal undies on? Because it looks quite parky in the mother country. It's autumn here and it was a balmy twenty five degrees last weekend.
Posted by: Andy Todd on May 3, 2005 11:36 PMThat was *your* verdict, Michael, not mine!
Posted by: Simon Brunning on May 4, 2005 09:15 AM*I* said it was a girl's car, which it is. I'm not sure Kate ( the owner ) would be quite so accepting of it being termed a hairdresser's car.
The weather was grand though, just as well it was overcast as we all caught a bit of sun as it was, apart from the downpour for 2 to 3 minutes everytime we put the hood down. Does faith in Sod's Law compromise my agnostic tendancies?
Girl's car, hairdresser's car, whatever; I'm not one of the automobile cognoscenti, so I don't know the difference...
Posted by: Simon Brunning on May 4, 2005 01:49 PM"A person with superior, usually specialized knowledge or highly refined taste; a connoisseur." [1]
Somehow Simon I don't think that describes your relationship wiht motor vehicles. Perhaps you meant philistine?
http://dictionary.reference.com/search?q=cognoscenti
Posted by: Andy Todd on May 5, 2005 01:43 PMI said I'm *not* one of them, Andy.
Posted by: Simon Brunning on May 5, 2005 01:45 PM