I felt I recovered well on Friday, though not hungry still. After getting up and having a coffee, all was set. I had to catch the ten to six train out of Dover, as I had a cheap ticket.
I was going to have something from the buffet, or Pumpkin as its now called. I got on and sat on my favourite side, the carriage was quiet, which suits me. Sadly, at Folkestone West, ten ladies got on and sat in the seats in front clearly on a weekend taking in the bright lights of London. They spent all the journey to Stafford talking about foundation cream and this season's colours. At Stratford I went up to the concourse then along to the DLY, hopping on a train that was about to depart for the stop to Stratford Regional.
Where I found I had a fifty 50 minute wait, so went to the Middle Eastern kiosk on the underpass for lamb samosas and a coke. The overnight rain had cleared, so I took my breakfast to the platform and found a dry seat under the footbridge and spent a fine half hour people and train watching. So I took a seat on the right hand so I could watch the suburban stations flash by and then out into the Essex badlands.
Train toilets can now be flushed in stations, so that joy is taken away. Not that I would have, anyway. Unusually, both Ipswich and Norwich were playing at home on the same day at the same time, as were Colchester. Loads of fans got off at Ipswich, so the quarter full train continued to Stowmarket and Diss.
Norwich is my old stamping ground, a city I know so well, apart from the usual suspects hard to enter churches, there wasn't a lot I could think off to fill in the two hours before opening time. I looked at Simon's album of roof bosses from the Cathedral cloister, and decided I would photograph those. I didn't have a long enough lens, but what the hell. Into Norfolk just before arriving in Diss, then through the rolling countryside peppered with sentinel-like church towers. Some close, some distant.
