Hurrah, I have a well deserved week off from the toils and tribulation of the railway. I’ve been looking forward to this break for months and I have a comprehensive plan to make the most of it. It goes like this…
Six nights in Malta.
Which made it look suspiciously similar to almost every plan I made in 2020. Which was jolly rubbish. Everything cancelled, shut down or bankrupt. Leisure travel is forbidden. No planes, no trains and I’m only allowed to drive my automobile so far. That’s to say, not very far. Stay Local something or other. Frankly, I’m quite fed up with this pandemic thing and sometimes, in my more evil moments, I wish they’d use the thousands of dead bodies that Boris helped to kill to fill in the English Channel. Then I can at least walk to France. I’m sure there’s enough of them by now. It’s what they’d have wanted. Probably. It’s certainly what Boris wanted. He’s very big on ridiculous bridges. A Bridge of Cadavers would be right up his alley. Anyway, what’s the point in simply ‘piling them high’? A mountain of bodies? This is one international event where being a big show off is a bit of a bad look, if we’re going to be honest.
I guess I’d best get on with the ironing and fix the broken door hinge.