A week in, mostly, North England, which is a completely normal name for that geographical area.
York, where I was all “I remember when this was all fields”, not just about carbuncular new buildings but also about fields that have temporarily become lakes. Some places that one can get to from York, such as Harrogate, with all its wealth, and Ripon, which felt more down-at-heel because it was raining. Then Liverpool, the pool of life.
Martin Belam wrote about League Two away matches and the joy of going to thereof. Which resonates, and is sort of how I spent much of the week (minus the League Two matches).
A needlessly complicated and expensive journey home, but one of the upshots of that was experiencing one of the new excel buses. They look shockingly wonderful – shiny and red outside, pretend wood and real leather inside – but I found the ride uncomfortably firm, and something was rattling noisily. Well, maybe I was unlucky to get a rattly one, and maybe I was unusually jaded.
Did some work, mainly on the train. I’ll probably do some more work next week, not on any trains. Good week.