Demiurgic

Yesterday was the first official day of my holiday, and I spent quite a lot of it attempting to re-capture my lost youth. It was also the day that I had a real kebab for the first time in months, because in the south they really don’t know how to make one. And I was having such fun that I didn’t even have time to write a blog update. So here is that update now, at 8AM (though probably later, as I have still to write it).

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I don’t personally think it’s unreasonable that if I have a ticket that says it’s for Newcastle, read a coach timetable that says that the coach I’m about to board is going to Newcastle, and board a bus that says Newcastle on the front, to expect to end up in Newcastle. In fact I would go so far as to say that the coach, as a requirement, should stop in Newcastle. National Express, however, disagree. That’s how I ended up in Blyth, rather than Newcastle.

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