I had a day out to Widnes last Tuesday. I spent the morning quietly mumbling ‘godda gedda Widnes’ to myself. Spent the afternoon and evening on trains mainly. Is there a war on? - this is the legitimate question posed by my sister who also doesn’t understand why trains can’t be designed to withstand the rigours of the British weather. Widnes was effectively cut off from the outside as far as trains were concerned, too much sun on the line or something. Warrington was a popular stopping place where trains were cleared of passengers and Scousers were peeved – though not as much as you might’ve thought.
Highlights of the day included:
After dinner mints on the platform
A man drooling over himself – who wasn’t sitting next to me!
A packet of golf tees (and a bottle of White Lightning) in the toilet
A teenager announcing to friends that she had ‘never been bummed’
A man attempting to remove his legs with a train
Jack the baboon and his signalman owner (with false legs)