Great. The train line is flooded here in south Wales. Boned. Buggered. Stranded. God willing we’ll make it to where we’re going, but the silly train routes (travelling west means you must go east, in completely the wrong direction) mean I will become stranded a second time. Nightmare. I am trying to be philosophical about it and am thinking I should just walk.
There exist no problems: only solutions. I’ve found an alternative route. It’s a bit roundabout, but it should be good, might be alright. Several hours waiting at a station means a few jars might be in order, whilst perusing my Latin and archæology books. (As with every Christmas, I even take them to the dinner table on Christmas Day. In-fact I’d say I take them everywhere I go. You never know when something like this might happen to have a chance to get a few moments of study-time in). I only wish I had brought my guitar(s) but the sheer amount of books I have with me prohibits that.
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