Vagrants and ducks.

The blog’s been quiet recently (apologies) but by contrast, Swingate has been in full, er… swing.

Only the other day I arrived at 8am to be greeted by a homeless man on the Swingate verge, just by the fire assembly point sign. Unless this was a man so disorientated by smoke that he was only able to get to the assembly point and pass out, I must assume that this was a man who had no alternative but to call this outdoor car park home for the night.

The place to be, apparently.

I have no pictorial evidence. Perhaps a little rude, and given his Special-Brew-breakfast-for-one, even a little incendiary.

Not just a vagrant (is there a difference between vagrant and homeless?) a duck too. A male mallard to be precise. Oddly, occupying the exact same spot the homeless guy had been in. What is this mystical power that draws man and beast to this spot? Is it to do with ley lines?
Anyway, there it was, a duck, in Swingate, large as life. I didn’t take a pic this time either as the Lady In Waiting was parked right next to it, so I’d have felt a little self-conscious. When two blog posts collide, eh..

A couple of inches makes all the difference.

East Coast Trains. Aside from my wi-fi beef, they’re alright by me. And if you can snag seats 75 or 76 (in any coach, I guess, though I’m currently in coach C) they’re even better.



To look at, the difference is imperceptible, but when you sit down, you can really feel it: glorious extra inches of legroom.

Bear it in mind – especially if you’re reserving a seat online.

That is all.

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