On a wonderful trip away to the land of farms, in the middle of nowhere with calves mooing, cowslip and wild lilacs growing, we visited some lovely family over Easter. It was a jolly good trip. Except the weather at some points, but that gave us all chance to stick some old favourites on like Flight of the Navigator and such larks.
The kids planted seeds with their grandparents, made homes for bugs, homemade pizzas and ate far too much chocolate, had a visit from the tooth fairy again and cried somewhat at Nanny McPhee (yeah, that was actually me).
Living in the South-West means it often takes us a very long while to get up to see family. Our kids now have travel fully ingrained in to them from travelling literally here, there and everywhere since birth, (Romania, Marseille, Barcelona, Brittany, Normandy ... ) so it wasn't too bad. Although the journey home wasn't all it cracked up to be...
However... the highlight of the trip back was at this very point when we realised something...
|I've always loved taking photos on journeys...|
This was quite a special moment though...
|"Magic Away Bald Patches"|
We'd actually been sitting at a table for the first part of the journey, all very comfortable with drinks, mini cookies, magazines and making things. We thought, aaaah this is nice but BIG mistake. Next thing we knew the conductor said we were in the wrong part of the train (as it was going to split) and we'd have to move to the front (about 6 carriages away with all our luggage). Frustratingly there wasn't any other seats grouped together, so outside the train toilet bogs looked to be set for us for the last two and a half hours of the journey left.
As suspected the train filled up to a stupid amount and we stood like sardines with the air slowly getting thinner and thinner. People trying to pass each other then realising it was futile, as there was nowhere to go.
|After a while the kids weren't so impressed, although this is just before it packed up.|
In walks two young people. One lad, clad in tracksuit, freckles and scruffy-ish hair with a very large young girl who I really wish wasn't wearing leggings and a skimpy top.
They had to stand in the part of the train where the carriages divide and the floor was in two parts with the second carriage following the first in a worm like style.
To begin with the tracksuit clad lad was on the phone shouting rather loudly about something he wasn't happy about. Sounded like he hung up on them and started arguing with skimpy large leggings. So she went into a sulk. (Yes, I was literally stood behind them, so I could hear everything!) Next thing I knew, they were kissing. Ok, whatever, that's fair enough, a bit of a kiss isn't a crime.
Tracksuit clad lad's back was to me and after a while I noticed they'd been in the same position for quite a while (but I hadn't been taking much notice as I was trying to wave to my kids behind some other squashed sardines).
Did I mention she was smelly? Well... that's not the half of it. NEXT thing I noticed was where his arm was. And her head nestled into his shoulder and random heavy breathing. Then I noticed where her arm was. And I was TRAPPED! And I felt sick and thought that if the train jolts a wee bit, this chap with his hands down his legging clad girlfriend's bloomers, would come flying towards me, hands flapping all about trying to grab something and steady himself and I really didn't fancy fishy fingers for tea thankyorverymuch.
I'm even feeling queasy writing about it. Who publicly sticks their hands down their partners pants and gives them a bit of doigt amour??! I mean?!!! COME ON?!!!
Especially on a train of sardines... Well I'm going to leave it here as it's all a bit fishy and my rosé is starting to not please my tastebuds so much.
Maybe it was my punishment for having a giggle at the perfectly arranged composition of the bald man...