Back to my Polish travels after a distraction with an eighteenth-century artwork of Norwich and the Norwich Beer Festival. This is Radom’s main railway station (Radom Główny) which opened on 25 January 1885 as part of the railway linking Dęblin, then known as Ivangorod, with Dąbrowa Górnicza. Designed by the Warsaw architect Adolf Schimmelpfennig, the station building originally stood outside the city’s boundaries on land belonging to the village of Prędocinek, with its arrival helping to encourage Radom’s industrial and urban expansion.

The station’s original appearance was rather grander than today, with decoration inspired by Baroque palace architecture, but retreating Russian troops partially burnt the building in July 1915. The Austrian authorities subsequently rebuilt it in a simplified form and it passed into Polish hands in 1918.

Mine was the 09:48 service to Warsaw. I had stayed in Radom partly because I hadn’t been there, but also as Warsaw hotels were expensive. I was also meeting up with the delightful Roy and Jen to welcome them at Warsaw Chopin airport, so I needed an early morning train.

My hotel was a one-minute walk from the railway station, but I left thirty minutes to get there in case of some unexpected delay. I arrived at the railway station 29 minutes earlier than necessary, so I popped into this little cafe.

There was an offer of a latte for the equivalent of £1 and I paid an extra 60p to get a shot of espresso added to it. This is proper continental living. I didn’t bother with breakfast as I felt that the additional espresso had addressed the main nutritional concern.

Safely on the platform.

For reasons I’ve mentioned before numerous times on this riveting blog, I don’t much like reserved seats and that’s particularly true in the UK. There’s usually someone sitting in the seat and I like finding my own seat. However, Polish Intercity train tickets come with a seat reservation and that means there’s a stampede of passengers trying to find their carriage.

I joined the stampede, albeit from the other side of the platform as I don’t want too much frivolity. However, due to my trying to play a game on my phone at the time, I got muddled up and realised I had walked about three carriages too far.

Whilst traipsing through the train back to my seat, I noticed a vending machine which I hadn’t realised they had on board these services. I don’t tend to wander about the train, I should probably explore more.

I knew this in advance, but I had a middle seat in a compartment carriage. I don’t like these compartments which seat six people, but I appreciated that no-one had sat in my seat. I prefer open-plan trains and I think, if my readers will pardon the pun, that this is the general direction of travel when new trains are built. One of the reasons that I don’t like these compartment carriages is that they can promote sociability, which is the last thing that I need on a relaxing rail journey, but more importantly, they can be too hot. Fortunately, neither was a problem on this service which seemed to be just about at capacity.

I was trying to avoid taking photos of people, but this is the corridor section of the train with the compartments leading off it. I hadn’t noticed before that there were fold-down seats here, which were handy for those passengers who wanted to sit down, but inconvenient for anyone wanting to walk down the corridor. Ultimately, it’s thoughtful arrangement which allowed passengers to obstruct the corridor in greater comfort.

My train ticket was to Warszawa Centralna, but the service was delayed by over 45 minutes en route and that would have made it hard to get to the airport to meet Roy and Jen. I noticed that the train stopped at Warszawa Służewiec which is near to the airport and so I got off there. Warszawa Służewiec railway stop first opened in 1962, during the development of the surrounding area as a major industrial district. It was substantially modernised and improved between 2009 and 2012, which is when it took on its new role as a junction between the airport railway and the main line towards Radom.

And the 11:29 service to the airport, so all was well and I arrived to meet Roy and Jen without them having to sit and wait for me.

After a stay of only one night, although I think that I’ve dragged enough blog posts out of it, the next part of my journey was a train from Lublin to Radom. I had selected Radom as it meant that I could get into Warsaw early on the following morning and it was also a location that I hadn’t visited before.

Lublin Główny railway station opened on 30 August 1877 as part of the Vistula Railway, which connected Warsaw with Kovel, now in Ukraine. Its construction was an important moment in the city’s development, providing improved transport links and encouraging industrial growth in the surrounding area. The original station building was designed by Witold Lanci, although it underwent substantial alterations during the 1920s, following Poland’s restoration of independence, when its architecture was given a more distinctly Polish appearance.

As with seemingly every railway station I’ve visited in Poland recently, some money has been spent on refurbishing the building. It’s all looking rather smart, another reminder of how much investment has gone into the country’s railway infrastructure.

The train started at Lublin and was heading to Kraków, which meant that getting my reserved seat was an easy process as I was one of the first to board.

I had the aisle seat, which suited me perfectly, although the recline was a bit excessive. I was concerned that I might break the seat trying to correct it, so I just left it. I’ve already got an engineer visiting my flat tomorrow to deal with a light bulb I tried to change and a smoke alarm that keeps bleeping. He’s long since told me not to attempt fixing anything myself, as it only makes his job harder.

Clean, organised and with plenty of space. The fare was also reasonable at around £8, particularly as I’d only booked the ticket the day before.

The train had a power outlet at every seat and there was also Wi-Fi available. The service got busier, but I was delighted to see that no-one put their feet on seats and there was no music playing from phones.

Safely at Radom Główny railway station and the yellow sheets that I would quite like introducing into the UK. For those who read carefully, these ones are future railway timetables to add some anticipation into the whole arrangement.

Radom Główny railway station opened on 25 January 1885 as part of the Ivangorod–Dąbrowa Railway, which connected Dęblin with the industrial region of southern Poland. In June 2025, the station was named in honour of Jan Bloch, the Radom-born industrialist and railway pioneer who helped develop Poland’s nineteenth-century railway network.

As a little bonus, I hadn’t checked the exact location of my hotel until shortly before arriving in the city centre, but I was pleased to discover that it was just a one-minute walk from the station. Even my friend Richard could manage that, although he might have had a little sit down en route.

There are only a handful of rail services from Lublin Airport railway station every day and I was pleased that my flight wasn’t much delayed as I didn’t much want to wait a few hours for the next one. Also, this is an impressive set-up, the entrance to the airport terminal is about two metres behind where I’m standing. Integrated public transport at its best.

I thought that this train looked rather lovely in the sun and I had forty minutes to wait before it left. A Spanish woman came up to me and asked in hesitant Polish when it was departing. We soon switched to English as that’s the only language I can realistically speak and established that her clock was an hour behind local time. She had thought she faced nearly two hours of waiting, so discovering it was under an hour came as something of a relief.

The train is operated by POLREGIO, but carries the Lubelskie region’s branding and coat of arms. For anyone interested, it’s a Polish built Newag Impuls 2 train. I purchased my ticket online whilst waiting whilst waiting for them to open the train doors, but there appeared to be a ticket machine on board for anyone who hadn’t bought a ticket beforehand. I couldn’t see any ticket machines at the station.

Impeccable and I liked that they opened the train thirty minutes before departure. Spotlessly clean, working power points and not one single passenger put their feet on the seats or played music. The rail fare was around £1.50 and I felt that this represented excellent value for money. The journey into the centre of Lublin takes around twenty minutes and there was a guard checking tickets and assisting passengers.

Lublin’s central railway station, although I’ll witter on about this in another post.

This was another success from the Polish rail network. I was given a power outlet, a clean train and no teenager broadcasting TikTok. Perhaps the transport revolution is complete.

I mentioned in a previous post about the complexity in buying a ticket for this rail service which goes from Barcelona-El Prat Airport to the city centre. However, with the ticket acquired and the train only slightly late, I was hoping for the journey itself to be rather smoother.

There was no shortage of space aboard the train, which appeared to have around six carriages and plenty of available seating. There were no power outlets, something several passengers discovered after conducting the traditional inspection beneath every available seat, but everything was clean and sufficiently functional.

As some background, the airport railway branch opened in 1975 as a dedicated shuttle connecting Barcelona Sants directly with the airport. Stops at Bellvitge and El Prat de Llobregat were added later, and the branch was eventually incorporated into the wider R2 Nord service. The northern section of that route is substantially older, originating with the Barcelona to Granollers railway which opened in 1854.

Around thirty minutes later, I arrived safely at Barcelona Sants railway station. It seemed relatively large but was straightforward to navigate, meaning that leaving the station required considerably less assistance than buying the ticket to reach it.

The rather drab-looking Barcelona Sants entered service in stages during the 1970s and was completed in 1979 as the city’s principal railway station. Its largely underground platforms allowed the surrounding railway approaches to be covered over and helped reconnect neighbourhoods previously divided by surface tracks. The station was later expanded for high-speed services, with direct AVE trains from Madrid reaching Barcelona in 2008.

After the considerable difficulty involved in buying a ticket, the actual journey had been almost disappointingly straightforward. Renfe had eventually transported me into central Barcelona without further negotiation, machine-kicking or assistance from ChatGPT, so perhaps the system worked after all. I was conscious that I still had to buy a ticket back to the airport, although I remained confident that the process would be easier the second time as what could possibly go wrong?

When I arrived at Barcelona Airport’s railway station to catch a train into the city centre, I had not expected buying a ticket to become the most dramatic part of the journey. There were five self-service machines, but only the second and third from the left were working. Long queues had also formed at the two staffed ticket desks, although one of those was about to close because this was evidently considered an appropriate moment to reduce capacity further.

Renfe operates the trains and its ticketing arrangements did not create an especially reassuring first impression. A Spanish passenger in the queue told me that I could not buy the required ticket through an app or aboard the train, leaving the machines and staffed desks as the only options. I had arrived three minutes before a departure, so my original train disappeared while I was still learning the rules of the challenge.

The next train was due thirty minutes later, which ought to have provided more than enough time. Unfortunately, the two surviving machines were failing intermittently and there were no members of staff nearby to help. One passenger was in tears, while another expressed his views by kicking a machine hard enough to leave a visible dent. Renfe had therefore established a customer feedback process, although perhaps not the one it had intended.

The pair immediately ahead of me finally reached a machine with eight minutes remaining before the next departure. They could not persuade it to sell them a ticket, so a local passenger stepped forward to help. He could not make it work either. Another local then told the pair in Spanish that they needed to hurry, before repeating the instruction in English when the first version produced no noticeable increase in urgency.

One of the pair announced that she would not move until a member of staff came to assist her. She was told to join the staffed queue by multiple people in the queue, but quite reasonably pointed out that she had already waited for nearly an hour and would face another lengthy delay. I watched the departure time approach with the detached serenity of someone who had precisely two minutes remaining and no control whatsoever over events. I say serenity, I was actually a little bit annoyed, but I didn’t feel the need to kick anything. I calmed myself by looking at the craft beer options in Barcelona.

The pair eventually abandoned the machine and joined the staffed queue, allowing me to have my attempt. The kiosk promptly produced an error message, but I was using ChatGPT to translate the instructions and work out which options to select. After some rapid pressing of buttons and only limited internal panic, the machine printed my ticket. Technology had therefore rescued me from a problem created almost entirely by other technology.

I was disproportionately relieved to receive this small piece of paper. I was not in a desperate hurry, but I had only a limited amount of time in central Barcelona and did not particularly want to spend another hour observing the gradual collapse of the airport ticketing system. I photographed the ticket so that ChatGPT could confirm I had bought the correct one, which it did. It had been promoted from translator to unofficial Renfe customer service department within about five minutes and I was very grateful for it.

The automatic barriers accepted my ticket and, in a particularly helpful development, the train was running three minutes late. This was one of the few occasions when a railway delay proved to be considerably useful to me.

And here comes the train. After all the complications involved in buying a ticket, the actual railway journey was in danger of seeming disappointingly straightforward, but more on that in the next post as I like to build anticipation.

We safely arrived at Bijelo Polje which I’ve wittered on about in my previous post and this is where we changed trains to get to Podgorica.

It’s fair to say that this didn’t look like the most decadent train that we were switching to.

The passengers began boarding with considerably more enthusiasm than the appearance of the train appeared to justify.

It was a compartment train and the rail operator hadn’t really burdened themselves with cleaning it. It was quite hot, but fortunately for those of us sitting by the window there was some cooling going on, so that improved matters a little.

The views were impressive and I should mention at this stage a little more about the Belgrade to Bar railway line. This line was conceived in 1952 as one of socialist Yugoslavia’s grand national projects, intended to connect the federal capital directly with the Adriatic coast. Serbia and Montenegro were each responsible for constructing their sections, which opened gradually between 1958 and 1976, so there was obviously no great hurry.

The final rails were joined south of Kolašin in November 1975 and President Josip Broz Tito formally opened the completed line on 28 May 1976, with electrification following in 1977. Building its 476 kilometre route through the Dinaric Mountains required 254 tunnels and more than 400 bridges, making it Yugoslavia’s most expensive infrastructure project and it was evident from the terrain just how challenging this must have been.

The short section passing through Bosnia and Herzegovina was the location of the Štrpci massacre in 1993, while parts of the Serbian route were badly damaged during NATO’s bombing campaign in 1999. Years of underfunding allowed the track and equipment to deteriorate, contributing to slower services and culminating in the Bioče derailment in Montenegro in 2006, which killed 47 people. Reconstruction of the Serbian section began in 2016, but trains still take substantially longer than the approximately seven hours achieved when the complete line was new. But at least it is working again and it offers some of the more beautiful views that I’ve seen from a train.

We shared the carriage with a group of friendly young Germans who were heading off on a long walking trip. We encountered them again the following day, but more of that in another blog post as I maintain my increasingly complicated network of narrative cliffhangers.

The large window on the side of the train gave extensive views of the valley as we started to approach Podgorica, it really was quite beautiful. This sort of view went on for much of the journey, it wasn’t just for a short stretch, all something of an engineering marvel. By this time I had long since eaten all my snacks that I had acquired in the morning, but fortunately still had sufficient drinks to keep me hydrated. This train wasn’t blessed with anything like a vending machine and it was something of a clunky beast that made all manner of noises as it trundled down the track. This wasn’t a long rail journey, it took around three hours and so was shorter than the first section.

I struggled to open the door when it was time to leave, but another passenger and Jonathan came to my assistance. It required what I considered to be an unreasonable amount of physical effort, although everyone else appeared to regard it as the routine operation of a door.

The locomotive that got us safely to Podgorica. We were on time and I was ready to go and walk the 100 metres to my hotel before we had chance to head into the centre of the city.

The two trains had provided a rather lovely experience and the total fare of around £20 felt exceptionally reasonable. It was my first proper visit to Montenegro and the first time I had experienced border controls taking place before the train doors were unlocked. The journey had beautiful views, fascinating history and a splendidly rickety second train that made enough noises to ensure that no-one became complacent about reaching Podgorica. A marvellous and memorable experience.

I’ve already written about the railway station that is now known as Belgrade Center and here’s our train arriving at the platform only ten minutes later than scheduled. The train had three carriages and Jonathan had warned me that there was no buffet car or food option on board, so I was carefully carrying my snacks. The rail service goes all the way to Bar on the coast, but we decided only to go as far as Podgorica as we didn’t want to arrive late at night.

There were seat reservations on the tickets but websites said that they were widely ignored, so we ignored them and so did numerous other passengers. Some passengers demanded their seats from other passengers, a guard appeared and there was some movement around the train, but Jonathan and I found seats that we liked and stayed in them as no-one laid claim to them.

It transpired that the train got quieter and so we moved down to a quieter carriage where I could eat my snacks and Jonathan could throw bread all over the floor or whatever he was doing.

This is Valjevo, which was struck during NATO’s 1999 bombing campaign against the Federal Republic of Yugoslavia.

This is Kosjerić and it’s an active railway station, although the building looked abandoned and appeared to have been extensively vandalised.

The train crossed through the town of Užice. This was the centre of the short lived Republic of Užice, a large area liberated and administered by the Yugoslav Partisans during the autumn of 1941.

The seats were broadly comfortable, there was power available and the train was air conditioned so that delighted me. Our tickets were checked a couple of times, but that was efficient as they just scanned the QR code and all was well. There was a vending machine on board, similar to what we had experienced on Georgian trains earlier in the year.

Passing through the railway station at Branešci.

This reminded me of some of my journeys across the United States on Amtrak trains in terms of the scenery and slightly slow pace.

The scenery was already beautiful and became increasingly dramatic as the journey continued. The railway briefly passes through Bosnia and Herzegovina near Štrpci which was quite exciting as it was technically the first time that I had visited this country. However, since I was visiting the country properly later on in the trip, I decided not to count it.

The train was nearly empty towards the end of the journey, so there was plenty of space. There was Wi-Fi during the journey, although as we crossed into Montenegro I could use roaming so matters improved somewhat.

We arrived at Bijelo Polje railway station in Montenegro which was the end of the line for this particular train and we were greeted by a man selling cans of drink from his bag. We weren’t tempted, but another passenger was until he realised that this guy wanted €6 for a beer. He didn’t sell much.

After that we had a passport check from Serbian border control and then their colleagues from Montenegro, with the doors of the train then being opened after the formalities were complete. I realised Jonathan’s passport is a bit dilapidated and I was excited to see if he would be arrested, but he wasn’t, although that would have made for a suitably exciting blog post. Despite another two walks through the train by the drinks seller, the €6 beer remained in the bag, suggesting that even a captive railway audience has its limits.

It was then time to switch trains for the second part of the journey, but more of that in the next riveting instalment. I also have numerous videos of sections of these journeys, but that’s something to delight my two loyal readers with later on.

As my riveting blog is getting behind once again, I feel the need to speed through a few posts. This is Le Mans railway station and I needed to get to Lyon for my flight the following day, and as this was France I confidently assumed the railway would provide a calm and civilised end to the trip.

The railway station is from the late nineteenth century, but this extension has been added to the front to give more space.

It was too hot, which I might have mentioned, so I had my tropical Fanta to get me by.

I didn’t understand this at first, I just noticed that on the left it said that my train was delayed by an hour and it had doubled the number of trains going to Lyon. I went to find a staff member and he helpfully explained that the train was delayed by an hour and that it would be departing from Platform 2 but that I could safely leave the station and return a bit later. The stress levels of that were beyond me, so I took my increasingly warm Fanta to another platform to have a sit down.

And then for a few minutes, my train entirely disappeared from the boards. I considered this to be sub-optimal.

Although I had been told that the train was departing from Platform 2, this was the first time that it appeared on the board. I decided that I’d better go to the platform to see what was happening.

And the train to Lyon was at Platform 2, so I was most confused.

It was evident that something strange was happening as there were plenty of passengers who were on the train, but others were milling about. I decided that I needed to find an adult and I located the train guard. The guard explained, in perfect English and with admirable calmness, that only half my train had arrived. The other half was still somewhere in France and would be along in about ninety minutes, which was longer than the boards said, but he said it would definitely be arriving. He mentioned my seat was in the half that hadn’t arrived, so I went to sit in the heat with my Fanta to wait.

To my great annoyance, after days of it being too hot and needing to rain, it then started to pour down with rain. So several of us decided to find a dry spot on some steps.

A little over ninety minutes late, the other half of the train came sweeping into view.

It’s fair to say that I was pleased to see this train. It meant that I would be getting to my hotel without any further issues.

There’s my carriage and the double decker train looked really rather classy.

I was talking to the guard on this part of the train and she checked my ticket and was explaining where to go when a dog jumped up at us. The dog looked bloody vicious, but it was muzzled. The guard looked genuinely furious that a passenger decided it was appropriate to bring such a dog on the train and at this point the dog was out of control, barking and frightening other passengers.

My seat was a window seat and there was a laptop sitting on the aisle seat and I did wonder whether the dog owner would be seated there. I would have obviously gone to the guard to ask to be moved, but it transpired a passenger sitting nearby had just randomly left it there.

It soon became evident that the train staff had absolutely no intention of that dog being allowed back onto their train. Transport police, guards and others came to protect the public and there were some cheers when it was evident that the passenger wasn’t being allowed back on. I’m pleased to say that this was last bit of drama of the trip.

There’s a lot wrong with SNCF and the prices for rail travel really didn’t seem to be cheaper than the UK. But, the train was clean, there were power outlets, there was plenty of space for my laptop and it was a comfortable environment.

The train was only at around 65% occupancy and I didn’t have anyone next to me during the journey. The service was fast, efficient and peaceful. One thing I’d never really appreciated before is just how empty much of France is. There were long stretches where the only signs of civilisation were the occasional road, farmhouse or distant village. It’s a reminder of just how densely populated much of England really is.

Safely into Lyon with my now empty bottle of Fanta.

And there was torrential rain.

I was entitled to 25% Delay Repay, which is rather less generous than the UK system. The claim form took me about forty-five minutes to complete, which struck me as an impressively inefficient way of compensating passengers for having already lost time. Still, if it eventually appears in my bank account, I’ll forgive them. Eventually. But, I was pleased to get to Lyon in time as the alternative would have been an overnight Flix Bus and that would have displeased me.

I meandered towards Gares de Nantes complaining to myself about the heat and preparing for my rail journey to Le Mans, the reasoning for all that is explained here. It’s a little odd as there are station buildings both sides of the tracks, although they’ve built a lovely new aerial walkway now to connect them together.

The station hall and I’m not entirely sure that I knew that there was a Pret a Manger in France, although I did know about the ones in Germany and the United States. It nevertheless provided a reassuringly familiar landmark, although I resisted buying a filter coffee as I already had enough thermal difficulties as it was.

This is the aerial walkway over the platforms. The design is modern and open, but it also gave the railway station something of a heat problem. They’d effectively created a municipal greenhouse and, to be honest, I did find that arrangement a little sub-optimal.

This heat problem was being resolved by having several of these dotted around the place and I enjoyed standing near to one of them to reduce my core body temperature to something that was compatible to continued life.

I took a photo of the railway tracks whilst I was standing in front of one of the fans.

I then went to the other part of the railway station as there was a Carrefour there, so I acquired a 1.5 litre bottle of Pulp, which is effectively their own brand cheap Orangina.

Down to the platforms and there were ticket barriers at the top of the escalators, but they were turned off and the staff were checking tickets before boarding.

The train was relatively cheap, costing about £8 to get between Nantes and Le Mans. The service is operated by Ouigo classique trains and they’re using old SNCF Intercity trains to keep them in use and to have a lower price option. This train was going all the way to Paris and seat reservations, to my mild annoyance, were compulsory.

The trains were dated, but clean, although I prefer more upright seats in carriages. There were power points placed erratically down the carriage and one is visible on the other side, but I had to make do without any.

This carriage was literally the end of the train with nothing on the other side of that door at the rear. The temperature on board the train was moderate, not freezing cold as I would want, but also sufficiently cool that I wasn’t annoyed.

The bike storage facilities.

It seems almost archaic that in the UK until only a few years ago the trains from Norwich to London (and vice versa of course) could only be opened by lowering the window glass and then reaching out. The door handle here was on the inside, but passengers could roll down the window if they wanted. Incidentally, I was glad that another passenger opened the door and they struggled despite seemingly knowing what to do.

And safely into Le Mans. I felt that the service was keenly priced and sufficiently comfortable for the journey that I was making, but these trains are tired despite the modernisation that has been attempted on them. But, the journey went quickly, my phone coverage was strong throughout and I arrived on time.

The late night arrival of my flight meant that I knew I’d have to stay at Luton Airport for a couple of hours and then cross over to Stansted Airport by coach before getting a direct train to Norwich. That was the cheapest option and Pret was clean, warm and had power points. Thanks to the staff member for giving me a decadent coffee for a price of a filter coffee, much appreciated.

I was very tempted to book this, all I would have to do is go through security and then a few hours later I’d be in the great city of Tallinn. I showed enormous restraint not to book this £8.99 flight as it would have been easy to get muddled up.

I went outside to look at the coach station and it was still there.

The Stansted Airport coach pulls in.

It was a slightly odd arrangement, the driver said hello and disappeared into the coach. He seems surprised I was still obediently waiting at the door a few minutes later and he didn’t bother checking tickets. This rather made the whole operation feel less like formal transport and more like a man with a coach had agreed to take us somewhere broadly useful, but I’m easy going (well, generally) and so I didn’t query him.

I have a theory that National Express is going into a permanent decline, this service was a third full and was one of the busiest I’ve been on in a while. I looked at some of their prices, and they’re charging ridiculous amounts in some cases where they have a monopoly. That’s great for a while, but Flixbus is going to steal that trade and I can’t see how they’ll get it back. National Express also have fiercely uncomfortable seats with very limited leg room, it’s fortunate that they do shuttle about nearly empty a lot of the time. Incidentally, I didn’t get my usual emergency exit row seat here, which is likely why I forgot about how poor the leg room was in the other seats. Nothing says ‘premium national transport network’ like quietly folding a passenger into a seating position not found in nature, but we shall see what the future holds…..

Safely at Stansted Airport.

I had a few hours to kill so I went looking for bargains and found some in Boots. Note the number of reduced prawn sandwiches which is either a sign of my impeccable timing or a troubling commentary on airport seafood confidence.

Another breakfast of champions. The quality of Boots Meal Deal has declined a lot over the years, that’s another example of greed and then noticing that rivals have stolen a march on them. Still, it was edible, portable and reduced, which is sometimes the holy trinity of travel catering.

I then went down to Stansted Airport’s railway station to get the direct rail service to Norwich. There were no delays which meant no delay repay, but at least I’d be getting home in a timely manner. Punctuality is good, but it’s also rather lovely to have a little financial gesture when things go slightly wrong.

It was relatively quiet all the way to Norwich.

Cambridge South had opened the previous day and it was rather lovely to see it in operation, even if only from the passing train, which is exactly the sort of niche infrastructure excitement that keeps my two loyal blog readers on edge.

I, and the rest of the train, arrived back into Norwich on time and that’s another journey finished. I may or may not post more random stuff about the trip, I’ll leave that as a surprise because suspense is important in travel writing.

Incidentally, it was too hot in Norwich when I arrived.