southbourne by katharine eastman

Okay this one I like - it takes just as much work (v little) and skill (zero) to make a dud as make a beauty. Yes of course 50-odd minutes is 50-odd minutes longer than most people will give it houseroom but that's partly because you'll be thinking of the other things you could be hearing instead of this and while you are hearing those things you'll be thinking of yet other things and god it'd be so awful if we missed out on all the fab times and things and poops that everyone else is having right now.

So yes I average more than one train trip per day so I think I know what I'm talking about & yesterday I was off to Chichester etc and I have to say that train journeys in real life are a lot less horrible than the ones I keep hearing about and yessir even in London I'm there about once per week mainlining the trainlines and people just aren't thaaaat annoying - hardly ever. Maybe I've just been lucky - now I've tempted fate - the next journey I'll be stabbed and then blasted with some awful romantic fiction audiobook at 29876 decibels, or even my own music.

What a beautiful day it was yesterday - I won't bore on because I'm now tiptoeing round like Bambi trying to avoid falling over, still recovering from last week's tumble and how stupid I was, tripped over by a straggling Bramble. I was in a happy part of the world where the boxes of free apples were out by the gates and Chidham is the world record holder - thank you.

And even the journey home in the nearly empty train - just a couple of young blokes nearby, talking old-fashionedly and making me laugh not-in-a-cruel way at the ludicrous journey they were being forced to make - via Paddington & Reading and Weymouth or something, just to get to Exeter from a place near Bristol that sounded a helluvalot nearer to Exeter than they now were, just because of some train strike or something, this country is so fucked it has never been so entertaining.

recorded this morning, photo near Southbourne, West Sussex, yesterday