Going Equipped

homeward
Originally uploaded by Lillput

The journey should have been simple enough.

Cambridge via Victoria coach station for ma, Victoria coach station and return in a day for me.

Yeah, yeah, the weather was always going to be a risk. That's the very reason I wore my new mids and my proper outdoor jacket with fleece lining and took a change of clothes and a toothbrush. There was always going to be a possbility of an overnight stop in a service station on the M4 or something like that.

I hadn't expected quite the delay going out though.

So, a journey to London that should have taken a bit over two hours took well over four, scuppering connections to Cambridge for ma and a speedy return to Bristol for me.

S offered accomodation in Hitchin if required, having had his weekend plans altered by the weather. As much as I love S's company, I really needed to get home because I had something like 8 people arriving at my house for various reasons on Sunday.

Nevertheless, London Victoria was pandaemonium, trains didn't look any more certain to take me the whole way home, news was that the M4 was worsening by the minute and the thought of getting somewhere comfy and inside as soon as possible was seductive and the more I thought about it, the more I liked the idea whilst all the while feeling like it was a bit like taking the easy way out.

On the journey up my ma had told me something her mother had said - along the lines of "the sooner you realise that God sends the weather, the happier you'll be".
She didn't mean that we had to believe in God - she meant that there are some things in your life over which you have no control and you might as well surrender to the idea and deal with it.

So I trekked across town to Kings Cross, bought a ticket and set forth for Hitchin. It took a little longer than usual because that service had started to suffer weather-related problems, but after about an hour, we were sitting in the Nightingale with a couple of pints for all the world like the journey was planned.

A few text messages and calls to make alternative arrangements for the people supposed to be arriving at my house on Sunday and then a call from my sister to tell me she and ma were stuck in London but were holing up in an hotel for the night.

The walk to S's house was in a winter wonderland of vigin snow and cold crispness. As the snow fell harder the stress of the day retreated because it felt like I'd made the right call and I was surrendering to weather I couldn't change. Even the thought that I might not be able to get home the next day didn't bother me particularly. If worse came to worst, I'd have to go shopping for one or two things but it wouldn't be the end of the world.

The light of day on Sunday revealed that no further snow had fallen, both road and rail conditions had improved a bit.
Then the agonising started again. We both had things to do, places to go and yet it would have been nice just to have gone for a walk in the snow and then to the pub for lunch and not worry about anything else.

Ultimately, we planned our respective journeys for the day and S dropped me at the station. My journey back home was relatively painless, albeit it a bit crowded and a bit longer than usual.

I'm home now and S is safely at his planned destination. All's right with the world.

I guess my Grandmother's wisdom has merit - as did much of what she said, so I'm led to believe.

So - I'm going to try and go with the flow and accept the odd fucking up of my plans and know that it can sometimes lead to a pleasant evening passed with a friend, some beer and "Life of Brian". (thanks, again, S)

...and maybe the wisdom I can pass to my nephews and nieces is "always carry spare underwear - you just never know..."



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