I’m sad to be leaving: I’ve had an amazing three weeks meeting so many people and doing so many things. But this is balanced by people saying how much they’ve enjoyed having me on board, and as I say my final goodbyes I have more hugs today than I think I’ve had over the previous year of COVID induced separation.
Rhodri the diver gives me hand taking my bags off the ship, and it’s sunny as I walk out of sight of the Pelican. It’s half an hour’s walk to Bristol Temple Meads railway station where I buy a sandwich and wait for my train, looking out on this strange sight of buildings and cars and people.
On the journey to London it rains, but other than that nothing happens. My time of adventure is being replaced by the normality of life inland. At Paddington I walk down the stairs to the underground only to find that the Hammersmith and City line is at the other end of the platforms. When I arrive at Liverpool Street station I have nearly an hour to wait for my final train home to Cambridge. The train from Cambridge arrives early, so I get on and settle down with a book.
But like a James Bond film with a twist at the end, these weeks of adventure are not completely over: 10 minutes after the train was supposed to leave, it’s still in the station. Nobody knows why until a guard / conductor / train person / whatever they’re called these days comes along and asks us to move to the front four carriages. Somehow the external train door release button for our carriage has been damaged and has wires hanging out. This means they have to leave the rear half of the train behind in London, and everybody now has to crowd into half a train. We leave 20 minutes behind schedule.
As we pass Shelford, the train announcer comes on to say that to make up time for the return journey, the train will now be terminating at Cambridge, rather than Cambridge North. This means I’ll have to find another train for the final couple of miles.