The Wheels On The Bus Go Round and Round...
Chilly this morning which necessitated the wearing of a cardigan, old lady stylee, on the bike on the way to the station. The air was damp and it was very slightly misty which gave the fields an ethereal look. The sun was trying to break through the clouds but only very half heartedly and by the time I got to the station it seemed to have given it up as a bad job and gone elsewhere.
The hysterical girl-with-phone didn't show up today, which is the first time I haven't seen her in the morning since I began using the train. I vaguely wondered what had happened with her while I wrestled with two Mancunian Physics Professors and one Herr Einstein. Apparently they showed that it's obvious that E=mc² but I had to read one page three times before I got even half way to believing them.
I scoped out my fall-back plan for the bus and decided that it's a maximum 5 minute walk. Definitely this evening I was going to give it a go and, hopefully, get home before 7pm.
Excitement on the second bus - it was one of those with the crazy one-and-a-half seats and I sat on one. Yes, that's what passes for excitement in my life.
As I was leaving the office today I was intercepted by the colleague who lives in Mönchengladbach who remonstrated with me for not checking with her more often when I leave. Chastened I happily accepted the offer of a lift with her, more-so because I had a shopping bag full of limes (for my daughter's Birthday Key Lime Pie) and cheddar cheese (only available in the supermarket near-ish to my office, I can't get there without a car so I take my chances when I can get them). As I got out of their car the heavens opened but luckily I was swiftly in the station - it was 17:55 so I assumed I'd have about 20 minutes to wait for a train, having missed the 17:49.
But - yaay - there was another train due to depart at 17:59. I hotfooted it up the stairs and, indeed, there was an ancient example of the Deutsche Bundesbahn's finest. Even more exciting: different seat covers. This time they were sort of olivey green with a wide centre panel consisting of the same green background with diagonal stripes of varying horrible colours of blue. I took a photo, and have photos of some of the others. Any readers should start hoping for either a car for me or something exciting to happen soon or I'm going to have to resort to posting pictures of train and bus seat coverings.
The rain pounded against the windows and the sky grew ever darker. By the time we got to Rheydt it was like a monsoon. I scanned the sky, hoping to spot a patch of blue sky and was rewarded just before we got to Erkelenz. Not only a patch of blue sky - but a whole sky full of blue and blazing sunshine. Stopping only to ask myself why I hadn't got my sunglasses with me I mounted my Shiny New Bike and peddaled furiously in a homeward direction.
And arrived at 18:45. Which was nice.
4 comments:
Small Daughter says todays blog sounds like a book. What has she been reading over here!!!!
Big (at heart) Daughter says Very nice. Maybe you should resort to retro teenage rebellion against the world to make something exciting happen.
In the future, those seat covers will be worth a small fortune. About 42 cents worth. Mum
You should note down all these different seat covers in a notebook, and compare notes with other train seat cover enthusiasts. Perhaps you could buy some kind of rain-proof outerwear as well?
I'm only waiting for the day you find a bus/train with turquoise seat covers...! :-)
Gruesome 2 (the small one) has probably been reading your cookery books!
Gruesome 1 can immediately wipe the words "teenage" and "rebellion" from her vocabulary. Right now!
Rory - I like the way you think, re the seatcovers at least. This morning I used my spiffy new Nokia phone to start photographing the coves, and while I think about the wisdom of setting up a webpage to showcase them, I will most likely put them in a less than interesting blogpost. (there, that should entertain Gruesome 1 for a while...)
As for spending good money on rain-proof outerwear, are you mad? I'm from Yorkshire which means that
a) I'm immune to rain
and
ii) I'm allergic to spending money
and
3) I have a rain-proof jacket which I will use until it falls apart or 50 years have passed (even if it doesn't do what it says on the tin). Those 50 years, by the way, will be up sooner than I think since the thing is a relic of my first Army posting which dates it as being in my posession since around 1985.
Feli - ha! Got you. There is a train with such seats. If only I can catch it and take a photo!
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