5am: I knew I'd wake up before my alarm went off. 6am: Radio 1 really is very poor before Greg James starts. I need to boil the kettle for my thermos. I think I can get away without a rainproof jacket. I must not forget my tickets. 7am: I had assumed she was asleep on her boyfriend's shoulder, but when he got off the train she just slumped onto the empty seat and carried on sleeping. Much respect to the bloke for enduring that. 8am: Our trolley attendant this morning is hugely apologetic that he hasn't been able to start the at-seat service yet because he's got stock checks and temperature checks to do. He only wants to bring us the coldest freshest juices, apparently, but if he stopped updating us repeatedly maybe some passengers might get a drink quicker.
9am: The trolley has finally arrived just as we're pulling into the provincial station most passengers want to alight at. The bloke opposite me pays £2.70 for a coffee and almost immediately stands up to disembark. Nobody is ordering Wolfy's Vegan Porridge or Mr Pullen's Fruit Cake Slice. I'm a bit peeved because I've arrived an hour late for the thing I hadn't realised was happening today. 10am: I really shouldn't have taken a photo of that building. I'll be worried all day now. 11am: I've never been here before. A lot of the people out shopping look like they know their way round a horse. The man on the plinth looks like an accountant. The fountains look bereft without water. I'm glad the sun's out because I booked this trip a long time ago. 12 noon: Damn, I hoped it'd all be cleared up by now but the public footpath is still closed.
1pm: I keep treating the pedestrian crossings like a Londoner and dashing across the road on red. You can still get wheelchairs onto buses here but the driver has to get out and unfold a ramp and it's quite steep. 2pm: I can see now why the museum offered me a cut-price ticket, it's nowhere near as extensive as I was expecting. 3pm: OK, this square is just as impressive as I remember, and all the better because it's nigh empty so I can get all the photos I could ever want. Shame about the signs to the cafe halfway round though. 4pm: No I haven't come to see the special exhibition. I'd be surprised if many people come to see the special exhibition. I bet your day's wages are higher than you'll be taking today for the special exhibition. Sorry, I didn't realise that was the way to the special exhibition, I'll just go back downstairs. 5pm: I have reached the special place, which today is doubly special but alas not while I'm here. It's further out of town than I'd have liked. I was considering walking back the scenic way by the river but then I noticed a) mud b) flooded meadows c) bulls so I'm slogging back via the main road again.
6pm: I appear to have taken over 300 photos. I also appear to have walked 40000 steps. The supervisor from the station office has just asked the barista at Costa if he'll wind his shutters up again so she can buy a sandwich. 7pm: Return journeys after dark are never as interesting. The girl sitting in the seat opposite has just picked up her bag of cruelty-free beauty products and settled into the seat immediately behind me. 8pm: I wasn't expecting the gate to spit my ticket out because the ticket for my outbound journey was retained, but that's good because I can add it to my longstanding collection of used train tickets. I wish there was somewhere to chuck a magazine after you've finished with it. 9pm: I have made tea and toast and sliced some cheese. Now to rewind Tim Dunn. 10pm: I'm knackered but I need to write something for the blog tomorrow otherwise nothing will appear and someone will leave a comment saying "Oh I thought you might be dead". 11pm: Well that'll do. I will sleep well tonight.
