Following a week spent commuting in and out of London - mostly during the hours of darkness - I thought it might be interesting to transcribe some of the notes from my Moleskine written during the week;
Monday 4th December
“At 4:40pm, nothing makes sense”. Why does the assembly download cache not work?
Tuesday 5th December
While walking through the city streets at lunchtime today, I suddenly felt vulnerable, and have no idea why.
There was a number of people walking behind me through Bishopsgate, and the thought entered my head “what if they attack me?”… “Nobody knows me. Would anybody help? How would I react to being attacked?”
The entire line of thought of course ignores the fact that I am 6’3C/3, and as wide as most barn doors. It’s also worth reminding myself that I would not fight back if attacked. I am probably the world’s biggest pacifist - which is strange, because I loved going to air shows and playing with aircraft simulators when I was younger. Today I think twice about playing computer games that glorify war.
Wednesday 6th December
Observations from this morning’s journey in : none really. Too wrapped up in Anna Karenina to notice much. The connecting train at Bourne End was late - 10 minutes stood on a cold platform.
Was not squashed too much for the first time in recent memory. A pretty, dark haired girl sat opposite me. It’s the first time I have seen a girl on the journey without a book in her hands.
Wednesday 6th December (later)
A long day. Going round in circles with a programming problem. Internet Explorer is turning into the bain of my life. It is the cause of all our difficulties.
Thursday 7th December
Sitting in the caf above Paddington station. A cappucino and a cinammon roll do wonders to start the day with.
There is a businessman in his late 50’s sat across from me. He appears troubled - staring at his cup, nervously drumming his fingers. I wonder what’s on his mind?
To my side is a lovely looking lady - mid 40s maybe. Bohemian clothes. She has a content expression on her face, and is reading the newspaper. She was ahead of me in the queue and ordered the same things.
Oh. My. God. A pigeon just walked past my feet. It’s wandering around the floor of the caf, hiding behind tables from the staff. Everybody is smiling at it’s antics.
Friday 8th December
Sitting in the caf in Paddington station, admiring the scene on the table before me - my coffee with it’s wonderful chocolate sprinkles, and a tasty looking cinnamon swirl pastry. I wish I had my camera.
Friday 8th December (later)
I’m finally on my way home after the week long adventure in London.
I worked with some great people, learned my way around a new area of the city, saw the streets in darkness, cold, wet, frost, and a few wonderful moments in sun drenched freezing fog.
For the first time this week the trains are connecting perfectly on the way home. It feels like the path home is readying itself before me.
We’re just rolling into Cookham. Lots of people with lots of money live here (or so I have been told).
When this week started I entertained visions of leading some kind of “dual life” for the week, but the idea turned out to be quite a distance from reality. (There were thoughts of calling up friends from the internet, and meeting for lunch or an evening meal).
In reality, I left home in darkness each morning, spent the first few hours of the day squashed on a train, then spent 8 hours in a faceless office wrestling with monumentally complicated mental problems, before making my way back to the station - spent - to surrender to a further two hour “compressions session”.
Quite how I never lost my temper with the world in general over the last week is anybodies guess.
The thing I will take from the week is the wonderful feeling I receive upon stumbling into the house in the dark each evening to be greeted by a hug and a cup of tea.
I think I’ll call that feeling “home”.
If you are wondering, I didn’t take the photo at the start of this post - it’s from a wonderful set of photos on Flickr taken by Dom Broadley.