The Con Report - Tuesday

[awmperry]

The Con Report – Tuesday

Tuesday

Oh god, is it morning already? I thought, blinking against the light.

Actually, it wasn’t.

It was afternoon – 1206 – and my train was due to leave for Carlisle at 1247.

I packed quickly, headed downstairs, checked out, and was at the station early enough to have a cup of coffee and get my laptop set up before the train even started moving. I’m quite pleased with myself about that.

Anyway, I was booked on a direct train from Birmingham International to Carlisle, and I was in First Class (which, ironically, had been half the price of a standard Cattle Class ticket). I found I wasn’t just in First, I was in the sort of half-carriage that held the staff section of the train, so I basically had a whole section to myself except for the staff, who spent most of their time giving me free coffee[1] and trying to offer me blueberry muffins. And the seat was comfy. And the ride was quiet, and whatever Virgin have done to stop that horrible pressure wave when you go into tunnels must be working, and it was just comfortable and painless all the way to Carlisle. Almost a shame to arrive.

Then I had to change to the local train to Dumfries, of course, which was nowhere near as comfortable, but still proved an effortless journey.

Pickup by car awaited when I left the station. I sank into the passenger seat, closed my eyes, and...

Well, I think Lionel Fanthorpe must have been about with some of his timeslips, because next thing I knew I was home, feeling the first pangs of that familiar affliction, post-Con depression. The worst thing about Cons is that their arrival means it goes from being two hours to the next one to suddenly being two years...

 

---

[1] Really good free coffee, by the way. Really good.