This may be my last entry…
For anyone keeping score, there are a large number of things I dislike and I don’t like to keep them to myself. Next on the list of gripes and/or buggerations is travelling when tired.
I hate it. Neither myself or Mrs Cthuiu drive so if we travel it tends to be by public transport. That can be a bind at the best of times but when I am tired from the fun I had on the previous day it becomes a living hell.
To begin with, people annoy me. Just because you have headphones in and your eyes closed doesn’t mean you are exempt form having people sit next to you. If you are sitting in a double seat and your bag is taking up the seat next to you while you pretend to sleep (even though I can see you coughing and involuntarily moving to your music), you are a douche-bag and you need to sort your life out.
I once saw a man take someone’s bag and throw it down the train so that he could sit down. It was extreme but it sent a very clear message. Sadly, I’m not that malevolent.
Secondly, and most importantly, I get a grinding feeling of impatience. I can’t really explain it but it’s like every fibre of my being just wants to be home RIGHT NOW! The journey that I have to complete cannot end soon enough. Think back to when you were a child and your Mum (or whoever held that role for you) stopped to talk to someone they hadn’t seen for a while. It’s ok at first – you can go about your childish way playing imaginary games with imaginary things. Then the rot sets in. You don’t want to be in that place any more while the grown ups carry on a conversation you have no interest in – you want to be at the sweet shop or the library or home or just ANYWHERE else. You used to get that feeling didn’t you? That feeling like you were going to be stuck there forever, forced to listen to a conversation you play no part in.
I remember that feeling and I know that it is the same as the one when I am tired and stuck on a train. I ache to be off the train, I long to be on my sofa with a good brew.
People have always told me that they love travelling and I have never believed them. I tell them that they don’t mean it; I tell them that it is the arrival and enjoyment of their destination that they enjoy, not the travelling at all. If they loved travelling they would continually be doing ever increasing tour circuits and just arriving home at the end of it. I certainly enjoy being in new or unfamiliar places but the travelling part? You can absolutely keep it.
Thanks for reading, now toddle off and invent the teleportation machine please. Thanks.