Making Connections: Epipode 01 - Ely to Peterborough

The Sixth of January Two Thousand and Fifteen. Tuesday.

Hello. My name is Vin Smarsden Hendrick and this is the first in an occasional series of blogs where I tell you about a shortrain journey I've made and the stories I've bumped into on the way.

I recently completed my first rail journey of 2015. It began in the picturesque Cambridgeshire city of Ely. I was heading for the 1815 service to Peterborough and as usual I was a little behind schedule. The sun had already set on the imposing cathedral which was now tastefully floodlit by a passing police helicopter, making an eerie crenelated silhouette. 2015 might have been around the corner but I could have sworn I was in the  Middle Ages of England! The fierce light also drew me to the new Subway concession installed within the lantern tower next to the Bishop of Huntingdon's chancel. I grabbed a quick lunch surrounded by clunch and made my way to the station. My sandwich was a simple three cheese affair, modest yet satisfying. 

On the platform I encountered Haraparit Kaur Gill, a laser eye surgeon from Chatteris. Drawn to the 'Game of Thrones' ring tone on her phone (she had just completed a short call when we met) I asked her if she was a fan of the epic fantasy television series. She replied she wasn't, but had been making her way through the boxed sets on the recommendation of a work friend who had lent them to her. Haraparit had got as far as the third series when she made a curious discovery. All of the discs in that box contained only a single episode repeated ten times over. I asked Haraparit which one. Apparently it had Dennis Pennis in it or something. Nevertheless, Haraparit's friend had never mentioned this despite claiming to have watched them all and read half of the books. The fibber!

I asked Haraparit if she was going to call her friend's bluff. She told me that she didn't want to risk upsetting her and was content to pretend that she too had watched the series confident that she wasn't going to be asked to comment on something that her friend had no knowledge of anyway. At that point my train arrived and I left Haraparit to unravel these intrigues worthy of Westeros.

My journey took around forty minutes from start to finish. One of my favourite things about rail travel is the opportunity to catch up with books, comics, podcasts or audios that somehow get missed during the hurly-burly of everyday life. On this occasion I reacquainted myself with recordings of the dead caught on electronic equipment that had come free with The Unexplained magazine many years ago. It's complete guff, but it still manages to give me goosepimples. Who knew Latvian was the preferred language of the dead?

I arrived on time in Peterborough where I was met by my friend Ramon - an old Spanish penpal who moved to England after a lottery win. He was kindly lending me a couch for the night. I asked if he had any tales he'd like me to pass on in my blog, but other than a time he saw David O'Leary of Arsenal buying lightbulbs in Wilko's he didn't have much to add. Perhaps that was as well. I think I had had enough excitement for one day!

More soonliest.

Every Day is Like Sunday

The Sixth of April Two Thousand and Fourteen. Sunday.

Fire up the Half Man Half Biscuit on the Spotify and see what comes out of yer keyboard.

"The nauseating bashfulness of early Diana makes me want to set fire to commemorative tea towels." Poetry, sheer poetry. Lets have a track from Achtung Bono to kick things off.

It can't be a coincidence that soon after I worked out the secrets of the universe with Tarrantism, I went into a spiral of decline. Hasn't happened for a while, but at the rear end of this week I revisited the halcyon days of my early twenties when the thought of interacting with other people would send me scurrying to my bed. Oh, the horror of ringing in sick to whatever terrible job I had at the time. I worked for Customs and Excise for a very short while, adding new rules to ring binders every morning. When you do that for Dungeons and Dragons they call you a weirdo, but this was the bedrock of our tax system. There was a boss who expected you to make cups of coffee for him, a man, Vince, who would use, Vince, your name an inappropriate number of times in a conversation, Vince. And someone I vaguely knew from school. I was spotted, one day, sat on the kerb outside with my head in my hands, prompting concerns about whether I was depressed. I was not - just isolated and bored. When I stopped turning up for work (in the days before I became a responsible parent) they sent folk round to check I was ok, and when they were convinced that I was they let me off the leash and essentially told me I would never work for the civil service again. I don't think that was intended as an act of mercy, but I took it as such.

Hmm, this is all a bit downbeat. Best perk it up with a quick reference back to my Nineteenth Telly Recommendation, Community, and a throwaway gag that took them three years to set up. This compilation of short clips come from the first, second and third seasons respectively.

This is the sort of stuff I seek out when left to my own devices.

I've always been something of a hermit. I enjoy the company of others and certainly don't want to let them down by being miserable when I'm out and about, but sometimes I do shy away from being social. Case in point - this weekend there has been a Science Fiction convention in Scarborough. I booked tickets for it and was even offered some comps for helping out with some of the publicity at the station. But the weekend also coincided with a Family Signing session that had been organised months ago. The conflict of two social occasions put me in a spin and I've ended up attending the Signing session, but then withdrawing to my humble abode with the curtains drawn. I know I'd enjoy it if I went, but I really want a break from other human beings, just for a day or two at least.

Which brings me to Sunday. I'm only just starting Season 3 of Game of Thrones in advance of Season 4 starting tomorrow. It is a Brit-actor-a-thon, isn't it? Blinking Dame Diana Rigg has just shown up!

I haven't been watching Ripper Street, although I've seen the buzz about it, so I didn't know Jerome Flynn was out and about. He's great as Bronn the sellsword in this and I have a lot of time for a bloke who is a patron of the Vegetarian Society and got to Number One with Unchained Melody (a song that has been very kind to me over the years).

 I've been reading some Stewart Lee and AA Milne and catching up on the Richard Herring podcast. Slowly, I can feel my hard drive finishing the last of its updates and coming out of Safety mode. I'll be ready to face the world again tomorrow.

But for today it's back to the telly...

More soonliest.