Oxford to Paddington GWR Railway

Well we made it again.  We’re on the train from Oxford to Paddington. We have to transfer there to underground to get to Piccadilly



.  Only one stop.  I had to get out my compass to sort out north and south to get seated south the way we are going.  Oxford was an experience.  Now London five days. I was supposed to do a conference here but it got cancelled, uncertainties of Covid and attendance.  Just thought I might call and attend another that carried on but it’s really not essential..  I’m so enjoying the travel study and writing.  

Surprised that the Francis Bacon painting was perhaps the most expensive there. Must find out why he’s so desired.  I’d heard of his work and been shown some and thought it fine but the whole issue of ‘cost’ of a work of art is affected by many factors.  Commodities are so much about forces and pressures.  I believe art is a commodity market. Something to look up. Ron would know.  When he was a live I’d phone him up and ask him something like this as an excuse to touch base. Perhaps I’ll ask Graeme.  Next time I’m seeing one of my investors in practice , one of the collectors or brokers, I could ask. But there’s google now.  An excuse for human interaction is lost

Laura is excited about travel.  She worries. I remember my Aunt Sally saying she was a worrier.  I really appreciate meditation. I am living in the moment and prepare but also know that God is in charge and all things will be well.  I didn’t sleep well last night. I imagine I’m going through negative scenarios, reflecting on past scenarios.  I have never got over thee diarrhea episode at the zoo. I wondered if it was more.  Ron got me home.  I was 5 and he’d be 10.  Mom put me all in the bath and undressed me there. I was covered in shit.

I was horrified.

I guess there was that whole not caring about shit phase a few years earlier then the potty training and here at 5 my mother was disgusted and I was disgusted and I was in a bathtub in my own shit.  When I’m stressed I have shit dreams. They blur with terrible toilets I’ve encountered travelling.  Also with working on GI wards and doing GI surgery.  

Travelling I’m always worried about having to pee.  I like drinking coffee but all the commotion of train and bus and walking shifts the fluids and I may as well be drinking pints in the pub the number of times I have to take a piss.  Laura doesn’t drink anything when she’s out to avoid needing to go to the bathrooms.  She’s a regular camel.  All about Detruser muscles. My friend claims with age his small bladder has become smaller. I’m amused that older people talk their bodies as detached entities.  

My back hurts. I think it’s wear and tear but it’s a psychosomatic black hole.  I’ve been too much on couch and sitting during lockdowns.  I miss the pool and hot tub and hope when I return they’re normalized.  

Beautiful emeral green fields to the left.  Don’t know what’s growing. Miss my Dad. He always knew just looking what was growing in the fields or what the farmers were doing.  It looks like a golf course and I wonder if that’s the sheep or a new crop of something coming in.  It’s very warm today . I’m overdressed now with jacket and coat.  Just saw a little plane. Another train passed. The fellow across rom me is young and working on his computer. The fellow across from him is working on his phone.  I’m enjoying working my fingers looking up at the passing scenery.  The villages have a functionality and somewhat drab similarity to a lot of the houses.  I like the rivers, calm deep, slow flowing.  They’re proper rivers.  

I’m going to load some of the Oxford pictures I took but haven’t share yet. I want to get back to reading Stuart McLean’s detective novel, too. When I lived in London for many months I’d train from South Pitney where we lived into the centre of the city. I’d have a seat each morning and read the whole way , a half an hour to an hour commute, great reading time.  On the way back it night be more full and I ‘d stand but when I had a seat I loved commuting and reading. Standing I’d read too but it was awkward. I was such a vociferous reader then. I read a lot now but not so voraciously as then. I’m also not as likely to be interested in tougher read. I’m reading that genetics of Scoland book, always reading a history but no so much interested in sciences these day.  I do like anthropology  I’m interested in future sciences to, speculation from quantum physics .  

  

Poland Flag

Irish Rail - Dublin to Belfast

What a lovely train ride.  Laura and I enjoyed this very much. We had a table. They served coffee for me and sparkling water for Laura.  They had sandwiches as well but we were still full from the Academy Hotel breakfast.   The young girls across the aisle from us were having beer.  We used the washroom on board but they used it more.
I loved watching the sheep on the vivid green hills.  They truly are emerald.  Then there were stretches of coastline and everything one would expect from Ireland where Vikings came south to invade the land.  Wild seaside coupled with well groomed agricultural fields.
It was Laura’s first train ride.  I remembered Dad and Mom taking us on trains from Winnipeg to Toronto and Winnipeg to Vancouver when we were very young. I remember playing with toys on the carpeted fields. After that theres been so many trips.  The last was the end of the Orient Express jungle train from Singapore to Malaysia.
I love trains. The best toy a child could have was an electric train and here as an adult I’ve been blessed to ride them again and again.  I especially loved this train.

Malaysia

I woke a half hour before the alarm clock.  That's anticipation and the fear of missing a train.  Dressed and packed, I left my hotel room and took the elevator to the lobby to check out.  Buffet breakfast smelled so fine I decided to partake, not knowing what fare I'd find on the train.  I had had visions of the Orient Express and remembered the wonderful train rides across Canada with CNR and CPR as a child, with restaurant cars and lounges.  It occurred to me that this might not be the case and I'd best have sustenance before a day's train ride. I'd also thought to pack a can of coconut water and chocolate bar.
I did enjoy the waffles and maple syrup with sausages and fish in white sauce.  Pineapple juice and later coffee was a pleasure too.
I caught the taxi but had a moment of anxiety as the Chinese driver kept asking me the name.
"Woodlands Train Station."
I repeated this several times until he finally said, "Woodlands Railway."  How much difference in a word.  After that  my mind was at rest for the half hour journey.
I watched motorcyclists, mostly on Yamahas and Hondas, maybe 250 to 350's, and the occasional BMW 650 or so, scoot between cars. They're allowed to go wherever but appeared to be respectful of the overall speed. It appeared somewhat dangerous but the cars were more respectful here than in Canada. I noticed that drivers in Singapore know how to use their turn signals and actually checked to see if someone was behind them before changing lanes.
I told one taxi driver about the law in Canada that prefers the driver hit from behind, giving rise to all the 'stop and start' traffic and apparent attempts at 'whiplash' insurance.  He laughed and laughed , saying "that would never do here'.  Apparently drivers are all responsible and individual accidents are decided on the overall merits of the case.  I didn't see any accidents and thought overall the drivers were a whole lot better than in Vancouver at least.  I wonder though, if I would think  that ,if I rode a motorcycle here  as I do in Vancouver.
The fare was $20.  The American dollar is $1.25 to the Singapore dollar.
At the train station I hefted my luggage and climbed two flights of stairs to where train travellers were waiting for the train. Uncertain that my E-ticket was sufficient I hiked back down the 2 flights of stairs and looked for a ticket office.  The pleasant gentleman there said the E-ticket was fine so I returned and hiked up 2 flights of stairs with my luggage.  By the time I took a seat in the waiting line up I'd felt I'd had my morning work out.
(Long rambling discourse on travelling suitcases and back packs follows: ---This type of travelling is a lot about pulling and carrying luggage long distances and up and down stairs. I've got this new Eagle Creek carryon that's working out amazingly well.  My travel addict friend, Moon,  had learned about Eagle Creek from a Lonely Planet editor she'd met using one.  It has wheels, meets the carry on requirements for planes, but also has shoulder straps for the whole thing to be carried on one's back, while it can be divided in two with a smaller pack with it's own shoulder straps.  Ideally, with time, I'd just use this alone to travel as my friend Moon does. She doesn't have my penchant for gadgets and electronics but is beautiful with amazing hair so must have her own challenge travelling lightly as an attractive woman who doesn't look like she lives in one set of clothing.
I have this second suitcase which is really for clothing.  I wouldn't need it except for changes of clothing for this conference I'm attending. I still have a need to be presentable and admittedly 'fashionable', though why, I do wonder.  My brother is a traveller who despite his massive camera and accessory bag, has a limited clothing bag.
Dr. Ney, a consummate traveller of countless years, was disciplined to washing his clothing each night when I stayed with him in Azerbaijan. He is an impressive traveller indeed, not just a world class sailor, but a man with a limited kit that's well suited to the overland travellers needs.
I like my hard 2/3 size second case from Delsey mostly so I can buy 'stuff' and bring it home. I've a penchant for getting 'bags' for the women in the family and packing my clothing lightly I have room to return with 'stuff'.  The Delsey hard suitcase has a combination lock on it  making it a sort of 'safe' when I leave stuff in my hotel room. At Miramar they had one of those in room personal safes but the Delsey suitcases works well for this too.  It has 4 wheels and I can attach the Eagle Creek to the extending handle on top.
I would think that a 'rule' of luggage might be something like, if you can't carry it up and down 3 flights of stairs and lug it about on wheels or by hand yourself for several hours , it's too much or too awkward or wrong for travelling.  I notice more and more older travellers and they're showing the same 'sense' I'm reflecting on. When I bicycled across Europe as a kid I had 'everything' in a large backpack I could carry for a day on treck.  I did the west coast trail  for a week with a backpack, with sleeping bag, tent and cooking gear included. Bicycling I had more room in the saddlebags, the back pack sitting on the back rack.  I did that for weeks on end.  Canoeing I had the back pack with a duffle bag for extras.  Motorcyling I travel fairly light though bought an extra bag to bring loot home from Sturgis, South Dakota. This plane travel, doesn't even require me to carry sleeping bag and cooking gear.
Moon and Dr. Ney are definitely, A + travellers, for economy of gear and thoughtfulness, whereas I figure I'm doing B+.  I think the exercise carrying the gear this morning was good for me.   Looking about I always see those who are journeying more like refugees, sometimes with shopping bags or suitcases that sometimes two are employed in moving about.  Some may indeed be refugees so I certainly don't judge. I think of buses I've been on with chickens and how I've travelled myself with Gilbert and an airline required kennel.  There's the families with babies and children and men with golf carts.  Travellers are a funny sort. There's no 'judgement' that's correct for this sort of thing.  It's just my desire to be 'efficient' so I enjoy the travelling especially as I age and the delays and distances grow more onerous.--End of long rambling discourse on suitcases and backpacks - something travellers talk about a lot among themselves )
Now here I am on a train again. There's all these doors to go through with bags and distances to step across. I helped an older chinese lady get up onto the train platform. She had one bag and a basket and clearly would have managed well herself but appreciated the chivalry considering the heavy door we had to keep open to get the bags through.
The attendant just brought through a loaf cake and bottle of water so I wouldn't have starved.  There's real jungle all along here and huts in the jungle on one side and a road with more modernity along that side.
I'm in Malaysia now. It was just a causeway that separated Singapore from the mainland.  I looked at the sailing ship similar to mine at anchor  near a coast guard boat.  Now this area is rural with sheep and cows and smells of farming.  Singapore was once part of Malaysia.  It's wealth and urban nature is so in contrast with the evidence of relative poverty in places along this train tracks.  Not that appearances are all but there is a more run down flavour here with rusting corrugated tin roofs on buildings that have been long between white washes.  There are newer buildings too so it's just an overall impression.  Travellers aren't doing statistics and their insights are anecdotal rather than double blind comparisons.