please empty your brain below
I discovered that it's impossible to buy a newspaper in Liverpool Street station on a Sunday before 9am, which is very annoying if your train leaves at 9am.
I got to share my morning replacement coach service with six other hardy travellers, and we all cursed the driver for turning up the heating to greenhouse levels.
I'd quite forgotten about that special smell that coaches have, and I'd quite like to forget about it again if at all possible.
Our coach journey took us through the back lanes of Suffolk, past the place where I used to work, and quite frankly reminded me far too much of the quiet life I thought I'd left behind when I moved down to London.
But the whole birthday trip was well worth it in the end, even if my stomach is now complaining at being fed a full Sunday roast and slab of birthday cake, on top of yesterday's pie and mash and fish and chips.
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