12. Travel first class

This needed to be done. I don’t like trains (the fact that I work in a train museum is irrelevant) and if I’m going to travel on the last day of term after a week at work then why not book a first class ticket to rock up to Laura’s in style?  On my next list I’m going to include travelling first class on an aeroplane!

So. . .my first experience of first class is that PEOPLE ARE RUDE! – No one (and there were at least 5 ‘men’ sat in that carriage helped me to get my case up onto the luggage rack. Normally I wouldn’t have minded but it was really heavy (probably from the two bottle of Champagne in there?! At least those won’t be carried back up to the Toon) Oh and my sportswear Laura Wilson requested us to bring – God knows what she has planned but you know it’s gonna be filth! (It turns out that it was a boxing bootcamp session. In the words of Lyndsay Airey “I have never been so ravaged by a man. I’m hot, sweaty, covered in mud and gagging for more” or words to that effect.

Anyway back to my first class experience, not only would no man, woman or child come and help a damsel in distress with her bag the ‘man’ I was sat opposite (I didn’t think I’d have to look at someone else’s ugly mug the whole journey) said to me in ‘oh no there is a pole up my arse so I need to talk like a tit ’ English “Oh I think I’ll just move over here to give us a bit more room” – you know the type., you just do that sweet cakes and get out or my way. Because I have no intention of moving. Those of you that know me well know how I refuse to sit on a train than in the seat I have booked in advance.

I’ve just been brought a complimentary tea – alright then!

I’ve just been brought a complimentary cider (I had to ask for ice though) wahh!

I just looked up from my book, looked out the window and saw a field full of sheep prancing around in the evening sun – now that’s what I’m talking about.

“Would you like another drink madam?” – attendant “Hmm, yeah why not. Another cider would go down a treat, thank you.” – me AND it is not some cheapo Strongbow cider its Rekorderlig, Sweden’s finest.

Now people can I just ask, at what age is it acceptable for someone to refer to a woman as ‘Madam’? I personally don’t mind it. It makes me feel respectable and sophisticated than old and past it. But maybe it is just a polite way of calling someone an old bag, wahh.

“Would you like something to eat madam?”

Onion tartlet, side salad, rosemary and sunblush tomato roll and a slice of ginger cake, washed down with another Rekorderlig.

“Would you like another drink?”

Well after 2 hours 28 minutes of pure naughtiness I rock up to King’s Cross half cut, in need of a wee and on a mission to find St Pancras and locate the train to St Alban’s. 

Onwards and Upwards!

I did eventually find the train btw.