I hate Mondays…..
The morning red-eye from Crewe to Euston is somewhat depressing this morning.
It is depressing because the country is clearly now back to work after the summer holidays. I must have blinked. I missed the holidays. I must have blinked twice. I missed the summer.
But, it is obvious that many in the first class carriage of this Virgin Pendolino (for some reason inserting the words “Virgin Pendolino” into a post seems to increase the number of hits I get. Who would have thought that my blog would be so popular with the train spotting fraternity…..?).
Several of the men and women around me are sporting good tans. When I say “good”, I mean “extreme”. These are not the tans you get by being whipped by the wind on the shore at Whitby or as result of casual bathing on the Cornish Coast.
No, these are suntans that people have worked hard at while on vacation. Hours spent recumbent under a Mediterranean sun with nothing but a thong or a pair of Speedos and a factor 5 to protect you from the solar flares and ultra violet. These are sun worshipers as dedicated as any Egyptian Atonist or Aztec prostrate in veneration of Tonatiuh.
And, their reward is skin that is taught, dark and tanned (as in tannic acid). I kid you not, but if you fixed a handle to the head of Mr Creosote sat opposite me, then I would be hard-pressed to tell him apart from my nearest and dearest’s Mulberry Bayswater. He is the un-natural colour of Dale Winton or those who succumb to the perils of the self-tanning spray…..
The collective mood on board has not been helped by the failure of the Virgin Pendolino ( 🙂 ) seat reservation system. It is a crowded carriage thrown into chaos as pot-bellied silver-back business men beat their chests in frustration and wave their tickets under the noses of innocents who have taken their seat. I’m not budging! No matter how red you turn. Now that I am in situ with my newspaper, killer sudoku, phone, and iPad deployed I am not going anywhere….
And, my personal mood has not been helped this morning by the fact that it is a one-cup-of-tea only service and Mr Branson could only afford to give me just one and a half sausages on my sandwich!
It feels like a long week already….