Iced Espresso Treason Iced Espresso Plot.

Forward momentum is continuing, but only just.  I managed to tidy my room in Colchester in time to catch my train only to be alarmed by a series of, yes, alerts from my phone telling me that the first leg of my journey is delayed, the second leg also delayed, because of a trespass on the rails.  I can't even begin to speculate about what that could have been about, but this forced me to stare at my phone for 30 minutes monitoring updates until I decided I would have to walk to the second station on my leg to avoid any chance of missing it.

Long walk, with a heavy pack that I wasn't expecting, but I made it, I ordered a coffee where the woman behind the counter has seemingly appointed herself the ice maiden of the British Isles and I received no more that half a dozen cubes in my drink, and I can only just say that this wasn't entirely her fault.  I could see this woman's hunger to disappoint in her eyes and she saw her opportunity for easy prey.  I obliged, i frowned and I carried my sad little uniced espresso to the end of the platform before being notified via loudspeaker that the platform has changed.  

Where had the platform moved.  Platform 2 or something but it required two lifts and something called a subway to get there which I did and I made it, but the lady with the cane back on Platform 5? Who can say.  Certainly not the porter who spent too much time helping the mother with the oversized pram.  Could be a new mother, more likely a human trafficker.  Would a mother that truly cares for her child subject it to to these terrors?  No, of course not, I don't even wear jewelry on the train.

I made it to the train despite this, arrived at London Liverpool again where I had to immediately find a way to Kings Cross St. Pancras which wasn't entirely clear from any of the numerous signs posted about, but I must not have looked entirely confused because two people approached me and asked me how to find their platform and I was able to assist them while remaining completely at sixes and sevens myself until I finally realized the color of the Metropolitan line was mysteriously grey during their stretch and only during this stretch which I had wondered about before, but now its confirmed.

Once at St Pancras I can't find anything that tells me where my platform is, but I notice they have a minature Fortnum and Mason which may need exploring later, but apparently all I needed to know was that I was on an EMR train which narrowed down the potential platforms to 4 so I make may way only to discover that my 1:05 train has been combined with the formerly late and now nonexistent 12:35 train so the train was stuffed, and the seat the I had reserved had been nullified.

I had to find whatever seat I could and stuff and smoosh my bag under the seat in front of me and this, I would later find out, caused my toothpaste to ooze all over everything in my dopp case.  So remember, remember this fifth of Novemeber I believe I shall.  Nottingham awaits.