With an odd sense of deja vu, I just booked train tickets down to Cambridge. Back in November when I left, I never thought I’d be going back as much as this! But in theory, this will be the last trip down until I go back properly in October (unless I go to view a flat or something).
Because of the wildly differing ticket prices, I’m arriving on Thursday evening and leaving Saturday morning, so I’ll miss graduation for all of my friends by either being in an appointment or on a train. Oh well. I’m sure they can manage without me. I’d always intended to be there when my college mums graduated, but life has a habit of getting in the way of my plans. I’ll also be missing a wedding the choir is singing at, because it’s far too expensive to try and get back in the morning.
In a way I agree with someone who was on the radio asking why train tickets weren’t all just the same price, dependent on distance instead of peak times and profit margins. It might mean there weren’t any cheaper tickets, but at least I’d be travelling at a time that suited me, instead of setting off nearly five hours after I’m dropped at the station (there’s a library nearby, thankfully) and travelling back at exactly the right time to miss things at both ends. Maybe I should just get a car.
I had an odd feeling when I wrote the train times down into my diary, because on July 2nd I already had something written, and then crossed out. It said “Back from Paris”.