New Year

On the train from Berkshire into London Waterloo...early morning, looking out the window as the countryside flies by, all grey, slightly foggy, frosty.
Then, in the sky to the east, a break in the leaden clouds, with the sun lurking behind them, and cracks of silvery gold burst out, bright, pushing through, flashes of blue behind the thick clouds.
Frozen lakes with ducks and birds sitting on top of the ice, an empty racecourse (Sandown), and, incongruously, as we are approaching the built-up sprawl of London, a farm and fields still holding its own amongst the suburbs.

It's still a welcome surprise to find politeness still rules (mostly). People usually let you in at crossroads, and thank you, with a hand signal, for doing the same for them. On the underground a pleasing female voice announces, clearly-enunciated: "Good morning. There is a good service on all London underground lines this morning. There was a delay on the Circle Line due to an incident at High Street Kensington, but this is now cleared. We apologise for any delays". :)
If there is a problem, they give you details. It is no less frustrating to be dleayed, but at least you are kept up to date with what is happening.

When I occasionally have to wait for my connection on a windy, cold station platform, I treat myself to a hot chocolate or capuccino at one of the many cafes or booths that seem to have sprouted up at all stations. I always have a book with me, or a newspaper, too, to catch up on reading. Just finished Zoe Heller's "The Believers" which I loved.

J