Diary of an Edinburgher

By LadyMarchmont

Home again!

A boring day of travel.

Except for a couple of dramas...

I was proceeding as normal through the King's Cross station exits, but my Oyster Card dropped out of the wallet just behind me. I turned and bent down to pick it up, and in slow motion - I knew what was going to happen, but could do nothing to stop it - the doors/gates/flaps snapped shut. On my bum! Had I been fleet of foot, that would have been the end of it, but I'm not... I was sent sprawling forwards and landed in a heap at the feet of hundreds dozens of horrified commuters. What a kerfuffle I caused! I was so busy laughing, but I think they thought I was crying. Embarrassing! Time I left town...

We had a couple of hours to kill, but decided to save the £12 for Left Luggage, and sit with our bags in the opulent St Pancras Lounge over a pot of tea (tea bags, not proper leaves like the RAC Club) with the obligatory pan flute muzak.

Another, even more painful bit of drama on the train. I discovered that one return ticket was not in my carefully guarded ticket folder! We realised that what must have happened was that when the tickets were printed out at the machine in Edinburgh, I did not collect every single one - you get about six extra look alike ones that are not actual tickets. I had the written confirmation of having bought them. But it was no use. We had to pay for another ticket. £86:4O thank you. Ooooh, that hurt! But I will write to Mr Branson and see if he's got a heart.

However, it was a very pleasant journey after the initial pain. Blue skies and fabulous cloudscapes. Not busy - nobody beside us. I had downloaded a couple of documentaries (about the Atlantic Ocean - fascinating) on to my iPad and spent a couple of hours watching them. I even gave JR a shot, as she had forgotten her charger. And her iPod. And her earbuds. Though she did have her Kindle.

Home and straight to pick up the wee dug. We have missed him so much. He was obviously going to be my blip today, but to find my favourite car, a Figaro - and a purple one at that - outside the fabulous St Pancras Hotel, well, Archie couldn't beat that! Even if the tower appears to be falling over.

Good to be home!

Archie looks a bit tubbier than he was a week ago.

But then, so are we...

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