London Bound

Well it's two & a half hours on one of England's finest carriages. Bloody cramped East Coast train sounds more accurate. Grandad always loved his London trips as a young man. I always questioned him on his ability to direct his little soft top vehicle Southwards & always hit the capital. His reply was always the same, so I've no doubt it was true. He drove to piercebridge a matter of a few miles away, then followed the telegraph poles to London. Now don't get me wrong, I'm all for an inner ability to know ones whereabouts & direct oneself on the correct path. But haway man, bloody telegraph poles take some beating.
For the immediate brief time I'm going to look out from my carriage, drink my Stella, & think of good old Joe. My wonderful inspiring Grandfather.