I’ve not written from a train in awhile. I’ve not been on a train in awhile. Oh, I’ve been on the the tube and overground and that sort of thing, but those aren’t really trains. Real trains cross countries and borders, not cities.
I’m off north to Scotland to drink wine and catch up with friends and wonder once again why I don’t here anymore.
Last weekend I ‘performed’ at the Cornbury Music Festival, sometimes called ‘Poshstock’. There was wine and music. I learned I like the Peatbog Faeries more than the Gipsy Kings and survived on about 2 hours sleep over 48. We danced. We drank. We ate pulled pork. We angered bees sleeping soundly in their hive and had to run away.
I expect this weekend to be every bit as good. Perhaps without the getting chased by bees part, however.
