At the end of the last post I was waiting for my new flight from Schipol to Heathrow, the original having been cancelled for some reason. In the end I managed to fly out the same night: I was in a middle seat, but by that point I would have stowed away in the hold or in the toilet if I had to. Next time I need to do that journey I will take the train – I really don't know why it didn't occur to me this time.
It was getting late when I got in: I was held up in immigration because my UK passport expires in September (these days I usually travel as a Swiss person, so renewing hasn’t been a priority) which meant I just managed to miss a Heathrow Express train to Paddington. I was on the next one, of course.
I probably would have taken the Elizabeth line in, instead, but by this time I just wanted to get into town so paid the premium to save a few minutes. And then, in stark contrast to the sparkling Lizzie line, I took the increasingly crusty Bakerloo line from Paddington to Charing…