wabson

part three of the ever-exciting adventure

The northern line

This is officially the furthest north I have ever been. Officially. Also, GNER’s wi-fi service ain’t half bad, although charging ten quid a pop for something that at best gives you speeds equivalent to a dial-up modem does seem rather cheeky.

Other random observations:

  • The train manager sounds rather like a Dalek. If Daleks came from the North of England and used the phrase “your co-operation would be greatly appreciated” at the end of each sentence then that would be him, spot on.
  • Competition does still exist on the railways, at least in a snipey we’re-better-than-them kind of way. Apparently the reason we’re 15 minutes delayed is due to us having ended up behind a “slow-moving Virgin train” somewhere round Doncaster. But I wouldn’t mess with the guy, because he sounds like a Dalek.
  • At least three quarters of England is covered in oil seed rape at the moment, it seems. It looks kinda freaky when you see this much of it – like some strange alien farming experiment gone wrong.
  • Just north of Doncaster near the M62 there’s a large collection of coal-fired power stations dotted around the place. Freaky things.
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