The weird life on the train

I'm taking a little break from the festivals and not a moment too soon. I am knackered. Right down to the bone -- shattered. Too many shows, too many late nights. I'm beginning to look forward to going back to work. Yikes! I'm slacking on the reviews I promised myself that I would write(and no-one else, cos, really, no-one else knows anything of the review writing, the review tweets, etc.). I do this when life gets too overwhelming: I become the ostrich. So even though I had to wake up at 5.30 am, I am pleased to have this break.

So yes, I am on a train. Writing this blog, listening to a podcast of Fresh Air I downloaded half an hour ago, riding to London. I know! LIfe these days -- it's absolutely amazing. I feel like hot shit -- for no reason, at all.

I don't know how they get this internet connection on a moving train, but I don't think it is linked within the UK. As it was when I was in Amsterdam, the peripheral text surrounding the window in which I currently type is written in a different language. And I don't know the language. I thought it was Polish, but after having a second look, I think it might be a Scandinavian language of some sort. I'm leaning toward Finnish.

I'm starving. I haven't been able to stop anywhere cos 1) I started on this journey in Edinburgh so early that I wasn't hungry and 2) I'm too scared to be late for the train because if I did something wrong, Boy, with his amazing talent of ubiquity when it comes to the dogs, would call me and scold me. So hunger is better.

The manager of the train (Edinburgh to York) got on the tannoy (intercom) to announce to us:

If you are using the toilets, the flush button is located behind the lid. If you push the panic button, I will speak to you in the toilet. And if I speak to you, please answer back.