A Tale of Three Cities.
I flew into Glasgow on the 10th November. A comfortable enough trip, the most memorable bit was flying over the Pennines and thinking they looked rather small. A few days in a wind swept and rainy Innerleithen with my family before the trip back south to London. I spent roughly 2 hours in Edinburgh station waiting for my train, not due to lateness, but my earliness. So that was one capital. I had a quick walk onto Princes Street, goggled at the castle and the gorge that the station is buried in and scuttled back inside again.

The train south was as enjoyable as the one north, but with different emotions. Just a few weeks earlier I had zoomed north in First Class drinking tea and looking ahead to all things I would see. On my way back I was sitting in Cattle Class drink Pepsi Max and reflecting on what I done, where I'd been and whether it was worth it.

Of course it was, and by the time I reach Sheffield I was quietly smiling to myself. I'd seen part of the world, had some great experiences and was heading back to wait for the next phase. I was tired of the long travels and wanted some stability, but not for too long. Just a different base.

I was met at Kings Cross by the redoubtable Dealer (see Las Vegas) who shepherded me into a Taxi, Muswell Hill and a bar. The first taste of good old fashioned British Ale was worth the huge cost I paid for it. I then retired to my friends house for a catch up and sleep.

My first trip on the tube into Central London was a shock. It was busy, dirty and noisy. Forcing my way through the hordes of shouting school kids, men in suits and tourists was so different from the relative calm of Victoria, or the less rushed Vancouver. Even brashy Las Vegas seemed far more gentle than the assault on my sense of Tottenham Court Road at 4pm on a Friday.

But eventually, I get back in to the London Life, commuting of the tube, the lights, the fog (rare but there was some around Christmas) and the regal splendour of the Thames when it's lit up at night. Plus there's a few nice bars and a lot of good friends. Still, I am still looking forward to living in Victoria, where it's quieter, and there's more scenery.

Cardiff was the last of the three capital cities I visited. Once too see my new born nephew, and once for the Christmas festivities. The first trip was interrupted just outside Didcot Parkway when the train I was on hit someone, either at the station or just after. The brief rumble as the train went through did seem odd at the time, and even odder once the guard announced that it was a fatal accident. I thus got to Cardiff quite late and only saw a little of it while I was there. Which was a duck pond, the station and diverse members of my family.

I came back for Christmas, and thus saw even less of the city and more of my family. Though a brief seashore walk out of the city at Southern Downs was enjoyable, and seeing nature made sense.

Apart from a side trip on the road to Oxford over new year to visit Muswell Hill (Buckinghamshire) and the Duck Decoy Centre (Closed), that's my update on travel.