Cornwall - Day One.

My host is making the most of Good Friday and having a lay in. I couldn't resist bringing my faithful mac, so I'm just sending you my hollibobs update while she is snoozing. . . I may have to abandon blog and go eat hot cross buns at any moment. Poor old me. Its a hard life here in the West Country...

So I arrived safely in "Sunny Cornwall". It was raining!! I did arrive safely, but it wasn't the best train journey ever. I had a seat reservation on a 4 pm train to Bodmin Parkway, but as Viccy had been in Plymouth on Wednesday night visiting her parents, she offered to meet me there earlier in the day and she would drive the rest of the journey. 

With this offer in mind, I decided to get the midday train instead, but hadn't thought to change the seat reservation. I soon regretted that omission from my plans because everyone and their dog was on the train to Cornwall that I got on. I guess all trains are busy before the long bank holiday, but that is why the reserved seat is such a precious commodity.

I found a seat that wasn't reserved until Reading, so as that was the only available option, I thought at least I'd get to sit the first half hour of the three hour long journey. Then at Reading, a woman with a lapdog and two young girls noisily boarded the train and it was clear enough to me and to another young lady I was sat next to, that we were in their seats. However, the lapdog, the two kids and the Reading woman were not so quick to catch on. 

I wanted to speak out, the seats were reserved all the way to Penzance, there were no others spare and the woman was bound to figure it out eventually. The thing was, to offer up my seat was to make my squatting neighbour get up too. She was taking the keep your head down approach. I didn't want to be a grass, so I let the family work it out for themselves, which involved a trip to the next carriage as well and did take them about fifteen minutes. When they finally twigged, myself and my neighbour were out on our ear, all of us being very British and apologetic though. 

By then the train was full to the brim and even the best standing spots had been taken. I had to stand in the aisle between seats for almost two hours of the journey, getting pushed and shoved and meeting everyone needing the loo or the buffet in a more intimate way than I might have liked. Initial meetings - as people tried to shuffle, wiggle and squeeze by me on their way to the toilet or to fetch their overpriced cup of tea, could be a bit awkward, but the return journeys were usually nicer. People had a sense of relief and perhaps a slice of shortbread to look forward to, they would shuffle by with a smile of recognition and a huff and a puff at the terrible inconvenience of it all. I was even exchanging numbers with a few weak bladdered souls by the time we reached Exeter and a seat by me became available...

I at least had 40 minutes or so to wind down from all the standing, shoving and squeezing before I had to meet Viccy at Plymouth station.

From Plymouth things still did not run as smoothly as we might have liked. Along the A38 or whatever the A road we were pelting along was... A bird (crow we thinks) stopped in the road ahead of us, pecking at some road kill and Viccy kept driving, assuming the bird would leave in good time. Birds usually do. This bird didn't. It was stupid or deaf or both. It took off way too late, smashed into the car and left blood all along the driver side windows and more disturbingly than blood. It left indistinguishable yellow gloop. Cerebral fluid? Bile? It was utterly unpleasant and stomach churning, whatever it was... 

A stop off at Morrisons for supplies doubled as an opportunity to take the car through the car wash. I like going through the car wash, it feels like something you might experience at Thorpe Park. Unfortunately, it took a while, queueing behind people who had ordered the silver or gold wash cycle. Made our bronze two minutes in the blustery foamy heaven seem all too short. It removed most, but not all of the evidence of our killing spree. 

When we arrived back at Viccy's place just before six (never seem to get much change out of seven hours with the door to door journey here.) the weather was dreadful. Grey, raining and windy too. We settled in for the night, with vague plans to maybe go to the pub later, but for the time being we weren't going anywhere... Viccy got a fire roaring and she made a delicious Vegetable curry. I helped - I did some chopping and opened beer. The curry was amazing. We had yummy Indian snacks and naan bread too. Then had Cadbury's chocolate Easter nest cakes for afters and they were bloody lovely as well. Mmmmm greed. Why not hey?

We watched TV and we chilled out together. Mike arrived back from work about half nine, we continued watching TV...Viccy apologised for having a hangover and not being her usual self. She had been up until 2 on Wednesday, drinking whisky with her Dad and her Sister... She needn't have apologised. I'm pleased to be out of London for a few days. It's good to be with friends. As it happens, calm hungover Viccy seemed lovely to me. She was apparently feeling like a sack of shite though, so that can't have been nice for her.

Its the start of day 2 now. The sun in shining. I've just made a coffee. Viccy will probably be up soon. She said 10 she'd be up, it is half past now, but I'll let her off. Today I will take pictures and my next update will be a pleasure for the eyeballs. This is all very wordy. I can only apologise. Here is an executive Summary for the more hurried reader.

1. Train Packed had to stand
   
2. Killed Crow
   
3. Arrived in Rain
4. Ate Curry. Not crow curry though - that would be awful.
   
5. Drank beer, ate cake, watched TV
6. Went to bed
7. Got up, sun shining.

I left it at the end though so likelihood is you'll have already wasted your time with the long prose. ha ha ha ha. sad joke of mine there. I can be to the point, if I want to, but I didn't want to spoil a good story too early on. 

I'm going to get those hot cruss buns toasting. If that doesn't get her shaking a leg, I don't know what will.