I am on a train.

I am on a train. This is exactly the sort of occasion that would have thrilled the crap out of me back when I was seven, but today I have a nonchalant, world weary air about me. It's partly my age (I'm getting on, you know) and partly the fact that my socks are sopping ruddy wet. It was raining quite hard when I got on the train, now it is not. And that is the story of my life. Well, the story of my train journey.

I'm riding backwards - I don't really like it because I feel like I'm missing out on all the action. If I looked out of the window now - urgh. I'd see an ugly man at the end of the platform at Vauxhall. I'd also see what everyone else has already seen. That's no fun - I want to see things before anyone else.

On the positive side, I'm less (or do I mean fewer?) likely to die if this thing crashes. Fun times. Now I must away, though, as I am introducing Carolan and Andy to the delights of the Wholefoods supermarket in Kensington. It's my favourite supermarket in the world, but more on that tomorrow. I don't want to ruin your appetite.