Saturday, 5 February 2011

Thirty Six: True Story

When I took the connecting train from Ely to Cambridge today, something must have possessed me.

That is the answer. Either some evil spirit flew into my head, some wizard cast an ancient spell or, to be more fanciful, I once again became a victim to irrational thought and fidgetiness.

Because as I boarded the train, I panicked. The lady speaker on the platform said something about Norwich. Norwich? Was I on the wrong train? Oh god. I didn't have a ticket. Oh god. No, I told myself, it's okay. You get off at the next stop and head back in the Cambridge direction.

So I waited. And in that waiting time, I deduced some things. The man in front of me was reading a guide book about London theatres. Funny reading materials on a train to Norwich that. I thought about the train I had caught to Ely (one intended for Norwich) and the direction it came it. And it dawned.

I was on the right train.

So what happened next, what exactly flicked the manual override switch in my brain I'm not sure of. I just know I gathered my things, got up and got off at the next stop.

And spent an hour stranded in Waterbeach.

The stop before Cambridge.

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