Bristol to Lincoln
train via newport
I've no appeitie for breakfast in the Ibis's ground floor restaurant and know there must be somewhere with more pzazz to get a coffee near the train station, which is roughly a five-minute ride away. The route there is all away from traffic and Bristol's waterside looks a great place to be is be on such a sunny morning.
There are tables outside a Starbucks and, while the pzazz is lacking, it's good enough for me. I have a chocolate croissont and plenty of time before meeting Mandy at gone 11 o'clock, with my ex now on a train travelling up from the Southwest. It'll be nice to catch up for a few hours before I get a train back north.
While waiting at the grandioise Temple Meads station, it makes sense to enquire about my northbound trip. Bristol has two stations and it turns out they're far apart and it's Parkway where I need to be. Rather than ride all the way across the city, I buy a ticket to get there - and from there I can then use my return ticket to Lincoln. My ducks are in a row.
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Bristol Temple Meads is a station par excellence and is, well, very impressive. Opened in 1840, it reminds me of the Houes of Parliament and Big Ben. The huge building was designed, as nearly all the railway infrastrucure along the line to London was, by engineer extraordinaire, Isambard Kingdom Brunel.
Some of the structure has been transformed into a cafe and once Mandy appears, we stroll down there to get a drink. I need more coffee and a proper bite to eat.
We eventually take a walk into the heart of the waterside area, with its trendy restaurants and bars and people milling around in the nice weather, then return to Temple Meads for our train journies home. It's hard to say if we'll ever see each other again.
After switching trains at bristol Parkway and heading north, my train stops at Birmingham. There, it's hard not to notice a woman dressed in a leopard print miniskirt who boards and I'd say she's about 40. It wouldn't be a total surprise if she propositions me, but she sits half a dozen seats ahead, right across the aisle from three men in their fourties who've clearly been drinking.
She's certainly no shrinking violet and it's not long before she gets their undivided attention after producing a large bottle of vodka from her tote bag. She soon gets a paper cup from the man with a trolley selling drinks and pours a large one. She's generous with it and the men join in. Ths is getting interesting.
It turns out she's a stripper on her way to Sheffield. Th emen aree getting off before her and ask how much it'll cost to buy her time - offering 200 quid. They've become lecherous and its clear they don't simply want a drinking partner.
She declines and once the men are off, she soon strikes up a conversation with someone who could be male or female - from the bit of their head I can see it's hard to tell - and this passenger also gets a taste of vodka. It's hard to hear the whole conversation, but the gist is the stripper regards the men as clueless.
Today's ride: 10 km (6 miles)
Total: 949 km (589 miles)
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