We woke after 8am and began vigorously packing. After dropping off postcards and swiping the credit card, I joined Cazy in the car. It was a frustrating drive to Waverly station because of the traffic but we managed to drop the car off fifteen minutes early. I minded the bags while my brother ran off to find a tag for his suitcase.
By 11am we were on Platform 2. When the train arrived half an hour later, the suitcase racks were already bursting but we were allowed to stash our three suitcases in the front carriage. I had to then clamber into my seat by the window, made difficult by the table doing its best to topple me and bruise my thighs.
The journey began, two older dudes already well established across from us. I got a hot chocolate and later cheese sandwiches despite asking for chicken. I was able to chat at length with a friend on Skype before the first class wifi died horribly.
I napped out of frustration and awoke to watch the fields whiz by. Six hours of rattling and occasionally resting at a station later, we arrived at King’s Cross station. We lugged our many bags and trappings to the taxi stand and smushed ourselves into the back. Our driver was a woman wearing chic sunglasses and the door beside me kept unlocking and locking whenever the vehicle sped up after stopping - this happened either at traffic lights or at road works.
We were eventually deposited at our hotel in Southwark and tipped our speedy driver generously before checking in.
Dinner was pricey but lovely - near Borough Market. Cazy was very nice to accompany me to London Paddington so I could get the lay of the land. At one of the tube stations where we changed lines, we saw a dazed woman lying on her side on the platform, a tapered trail of vomit leading from her chunky lips. Once we reached London Paddington, Cazy helped me pick up tomorrow’s tickets.
We came back to our room and now I must sleep.