As I mentioned yesterday in a French post, we will be traveling in a couple of days to London, to see a friend of my wife and her baby boy, who is about two months younger than Wolfie. Which means we will take the train, the first time since last June. I am quite looking forward to it. To be out on a special day and also to travel by train, which is my favourite way of travelling. But unlike what I had pondered about in this post, we will go second class as usual, or whatever it is called nowadays. The wagon might be jammed, smelly, there might be no seat available even, especially when we will be leaving London, it might be as comfortable as a train can be. But it takes a lot for me to find train travels unpleasant.
And if you were wondering, I took this picture at the National Railway Museum of York. This was not a wagon, it was a box, and it makes me think that travelling second class then must have been far worse than now, even on a bad day.
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