Wow! What a hectic but exhilarating, and at times, stressful three days, during which I attended three Christmastide Eucharists, got to know my great nephew a little better, learned the best way to cook sprouts, was reminded how useless I am at Monopoly, and many other experiences I just cannot bring to mind right now. My godson and his wife made excellent hardworking and welcoming hosts, and there was no danger of ever feeling hungry or thirsty.
27/12/22
For some reason, at church, I felt I was expected to be familiar with the complexes of what I am given to understand is High Anglo Catholic worship. Fortunately, I have a young friend in Buxton who will be able to explain that which I still fail to comprehend. All three churches were welcoming without being embarrassingly overwhelming. The services were immaculate in their presentation, choirs sang magnificently and in my humble unqualified opinion, to perfection. Familiar carols felt brand new and fresh, and organs thundered in praise to the Almighty. Sermons and prayer were relevant to our present troubled (not so much in leafy S.E. London) times, far better worded than any prayers that I manage to offer up most mornings.
I fear going home may be even more troublesome than getting here. So far, no trains are running!
My final breakfast at The Clarendon was enjoyable if a bit (because I overslept) rushed. I do hope I can come here again. This slightly old-fashioned establishment remains as comfortable and welcoming as in pre-covid days. And being outside of Central London, it remains sensibly priced.
Suddenly, all is quiet. Am I actually missing the frenetic urgency of the last three days? Now, I sit in anonymity, contemplating what normally would be a straightforward journey back to North Derbyshire. It’s 11am.
Reception advised me to take the 108 bus to the Jubilee Line for a Tube train to Central London. After 10 minutes’ wait in the “freezing cold,” a single decker showed up full and standing. I decided to try Uber for the first time. I returned to the warmth of the hotel lounge; five minutes later, a nice white M.G. 71reg white car showed up and whisked me to Euston Station, crowded with hopeful passengers heading north.
Which idiot came up with the new LED departure board, replacement for the far more easily consulted electronic Customer Information Screens, which had been more than satisfactory for decades. The idea, I read in the railway periodicals, is to prevent the famous stampede when train departure platforms are announced. What a load of nonsense! Some poor harassed Customer Information guy instructed me to take a train to Milton Keynes, catch a rail replacement bus to Rugby, and catch a further train north. The train was announced, and I never saw a stampede like it! I did manage to find a seat, and the journey to Milton Keynes was quite comfortable but somewhat crowded. Eventually, I had a spacious seat on the coach to Rugby in Warwickshire, home of the famous Public School where the game of Rugby (or Rugger) was invented (or, so I am led to believe).
Wednesday 28th December
Rugby Station was chaotic with crowds battling in both directions, either to catch an appropriate train north, or, having arrived from wherever, fighting their way in the opposite direction to the southbound rail replacement buses. I must have just missed the Manchester train; the next service I could ascertain was in around 45 minutes’ time on Platform 1. I didn’t have to wait in the cold; a nice warm, unrefurbished Pendolino had just arrived, and I had the train to myself. Very few people came on board, and although it felt like a long wait, I was slightly taken by surprise as the train slipped out of Rugby Station. The journey to Macclesfield was comfortable in an almost completely empty train. Northern Trains were not operating from Stockport to Buxton. For once, my only way of reaching home was by taxi. Uber couldn’t locate me a car so far north of London! I was in my house a respectable five hours after leaving Euston, where I had waited almost an hour for a suitable train.
My journey home could have been far worse. Probably, being by nature, a late riser, I may well have missed the worst of yesterday’s disruption.
I can now look back on this year’s Christmas period with much pleasure. Excellent company, food and jollity, chilling out in a favourite hotel for four nights, and three wonderful church services, as well as a bag of presents to bring home. I do like these gatherings of the generations!
Many thanks for reading. HAPPY NEW YEAR! David 12.19hrs 28/12/22.
David's Cruise 