13 Sept 2020
On Saying Goodbye To Commuting
I can still remember my first proper day of commuting. That is, if we’re not including two weeks of work experience I did when I was 15. Which I’m not because two weeks is not even remotely comparable to a full-time commuter. My first day of commuting: I had left university mere weeks ago, was living back home and was starting an internship in London. I had to catch a lift with my parents which meant catching a far earlier train than was necessary. I forgot my railcard. I was so stupidly tired, I was pretty convinced I was going to trip over my own feet. A 6am start was a hellish shock to someone who’d spent the last 3 years accustomed to 3am bedtimes and 2pm lie ins. I can remember looking at my mum as we climbed the stairs at Farringdon station and saying ‘so this is your life then?’.
That was seven years ago and I’ve been a commuter ever since. And, bar two months driving to a temp job in Milton Keynes, I have always commuted to London on the train. When I practically lived with Gary during our first year together, I commuted across London. Fair to say, I am very well acquainted with both London and the British transport system.
When we moved last year, I dropped my days in London to twice a week in an attempt to make the new two-hour commute (each way) more manageable which it was, just about, although still exhausting.
Then 2020 happened and I now haven’t commuted for six months.
I always imagined that the last time I commuted would be A Moment. I imagined I would know it would be happening for starters, that I’d have built up to it for a while, that I'd take the time to pay attention to the last train journey, the last stomp between the station and the office. As it turns out, my final commute in March - just before lockdown - was completely bog standard and only different by the sudden awareness of Covid-19. Otherwise, it was barely memorable.
The thing is, commuting is a little bit like joining a club you didn’t realise you were signing up for. You don’t get long-term commuting unless you’ve done it. And once you have, there is a shared understanding with other long-term commuters. I grew up in a household with two full-time commuters and had seen the impact first hand over several years, but I still didn’t truly understand until I had become one myself.
It is not an intentionally patronising club, more one of those you-had-to-be-there moments. Only other commuters will understand the to-your-bones tiredness that comes from commuting. Non-commuters look at the hour you spend on the train and think of the occasional one-hour train journeys they have done in the past. They don’t think of the time spent getting to and from the train station which means the journey is actually two hours, or the sardine-cramped carriages that feel alien in Covid-times or what it means to do that every. single. day. If I were to write a list of attributes I would want in a perfect line manager, it would be someone who also commutes. Trust me, there is a special place in hell for Londoners who refuse working-from-home requests for no credible reason, when they spend just 15 minutes on the tube every day – or worse, walk to work.
I always think you can tell a commuter by the way they talk about their journey in exact minutes. If the walking part of the journey is 7 minutes, we will tell you so. Non-commuters will probably generalise to 5 or 10 but for commuters, every damn minute is precious and we can tell you the exact number of minutes it takes to get from our front door to our desk in the office.
Commuters are better at telling you the exact train times than National Rail is, the exact spot you need to stand on the platform to be right where the door opens (plus how to jump on and get a precious seat without physically having to elbow someone) and we know from bitter experience the perfect pounding-the-London-streets comfort shoes.
We also know the exact amount of alcohol we can drink at after-work drinks that will enable us to get through the post-pub train journey without throwing up, and every one of us has at least one story about falling asleep and missing our stop.
I think it’s the delays that are synonymous with the British rail system that really bind our club together though. We may fight it out for seats on a daily basis but the moment the system fails us, we are united in our shared groans at the ‘major signal failure’ announcements, shared group taxis from London to the home counties (don’t ask me about the cost) and shared empathy in the knowledge that we have just lost our entire evening only for the joy of waking up to a 5:30 alarm to do it all over again. You know shit has hit the fan when commuters start talking to each other but you will also be able to see the shared solidarity.
11 Sept 2020
Glamping In Norfolk
*squints* is this a travel post?
We. Went. Away. Like away. On holiday. Granted, it was only 30 miles from home and for 3 nights but I am absolutely owning this as a holiday. Take that 2020.
Like a lot of people right now, once we’d let go of the original 2020 travel plans (miss you Berlin & Lisbon, sob) and lockdown began to ease, we started looking at getting the hell away from home. Like, love you house, but it had been six months. Time to get away from our own four walls… and, well, walls in general really.
Enter: glamping.
Glamping has been something I have wanted to try for a while now but admittedly has been pushed to one side several times in favour of holidaying abroad. So it seemed that the summer of 2020 was the perfect time to finally bring it to the top of our holiday plans.
My friend Lizzie pointed me in the direction of Canopy & Stars which ngl, is a little bit like glamping porn. That site is covered in hundreds of beautiful looking glamping experiences and I lost several hours flicking through all the pictures.
We didn’t want to go too far so we settled on rural Norfolk and the beautiful Oyster Catcher on Bagthorpe Farm. Two biodomes; one bedroom and one split into a kitchen and bathroom complete with roll top bath.
I gotta say: I am a glamping convert. As far as I could tell, it was all the best bits of camping minus all the faff that can come with it, with the comfort of a bed and flushing toilet. And there’s just something fun about a room under canvas. It was a simple few days but really good for the soul.
The sun was blazing on our first evening so we settled down with snacks and wine and watched it lazily droop behind the trees. The moment the temperature dropped, we got the fire going and heated up (on the camping stove, not the fire) the sausage casserole that Gary made before we set off. The evening was really peaceful and still, and we whiled it away eating, chatting, stoking the fire and admiring the view. And obviously, it would have been rude not to toast a marshmallow or two. Once it was dark, we wrapped ourselves in blankets, pulled the reclining wooden chairs closer to the fire, and tilted back to watch the stars take over the night sky. It was beautiful.
We were woken up rather early the next morning by a) the cows mooing and b) rain thundering down on the canvas -slightly less peaceful but to be expected when camping in the countryside! Storm Francis was on his way but he wasn’t going to get in the way of a good time. We drove to the local village to have lunch at Bircham Café. Like true Brits-on-hol, we sat outside whilst the winds built up, periodically saving a napkin from being whipped away. Lunch there was surprisingly fancy; we shared a charcuterie board to start, Gary the seafood linguine and me the Mediterranean veg salad for main and we both opted for the raspberry and white chocolate mille-feuille for dessert (we had to google the name and then were disappointed in ourselves because god dammit, we’ve watched enough Bake Off).
We collected some supplies from the store next door (a random spread of quiche, scotch egg, olives & salads) because the wind was really building and we suspected we would be hunkering down once Storm Francis arrived later on.
Back at camp, I decided to try out that gorgeous looking roll top bath which required more patience than the usual bath-running. Gary got the fire going in the wood burner and then I had to wait for about 45 mins for the water to heat (although it was beautifully hot – the bathroom was like a sauna) and then another 45 mins or so for the trickle of water to fill the entire bath. Technically a faff but I was in no rush. I’d come armed with a Lush bubble bar and Storm Francis had well and truly arrived by the time I sank beneath the pink, bubbly waters. It was incredibly cosy sat in a steaming hot bath whilst the tent shook in the winds around me.
The winds were intense. We had no choice but to zip up the tents, lock down the garden furniture which were literally blowing away, and light a shit load of candles. Whilst we did wonder whether the tent was going to withstand the night, and it was very difficult to sleep, we did have some serious hygge vibes. It’s impossible not to feel cosy when there’s a storm outside and you’re wrapped in a blanket with a fire going, and reading your book by candlelight.
By the next morning, the high winds had blown out and we decided to have a stomp through the countryside. We stopped off at Bircham caf̩ for lunch again (just sandwiches this time) and accidentally fell into the pub on our way back. We were amazed by how still it was again in the evening, particularly after the night before, so decided to just hang out at camp and enjoy the sunset and stars again. I had another bath and then we threw together a random collection of ingredients in with some pasta and got settled by the fire Рyes, we 100% came away from the weekend stinking of smoke.
After we packed up on our final morning, we took a little detour to Brancaster beach which is huge and sprawling and beautiful. It was pretty busy but big enough that everyone could have their own space. It was nice to see kids playing and dogs having the time of their lives running up and down. We had a lil picnic and read our books for a bit before heading home which, because we hadn’t gone too far, was just a short drive!
Here’s to more chilled staycations during this strange year.
4 Sept 2020
The August Highlights
Those of you who know me / have been around these parts for a while will know that Autumn is my absolute fave. I am a bit of a seasons whore to be honest – I love them all – but Autumn always just edges up to the top of the list for me. I love the temperatures gently cooling, the return of my jeans, the golden leaves, the back-to-school buzz in the air. I feel like I’m emerging from a lazy summer’s night with the urge to organise, create and bake. I guess I’m my most me like in Autumn.
Whilst we’re still really in the tail end of summer, September always gets me hyped up for the golden months ahead. I’ll be finally hitting a work deadline that I’ve been building up to all summer and I’m excited for work to feel less all-consuming and getting stuck in to a creative spell.
So, in the spirit of newness, I’m switching up the format of these highlights posts slightly. Of course, they are still absolutely about celebrating the small things, just a little more focused. Read on, you’ll get the idea!
Out & About
August was probably my busiest month since before lockdown! In between the crazy work schedule, we had friends (and Mango the lab) come visit us, I went up north to visit my dad for the first time since March, we went glamping in Norfolk (more on that soon) and we had a lil mini break in the Cotswolds to coincide with my best friend’s wedding. I have missed weddings. It was a double honour to be his best wo-man and actually get to be there, given all the guest restrictions on weddings at the mo.
Watching / Reading / Listening
I got a year’s free subscription to Apple TV when I got a new phone this month and I can confirm that The Morning Show is absolutely worth the hype. A popular breakfast news programme in Manhattan deals with a sexual misconduct scandal – Jennifer Aniston & Reese Witherspoon are so good. Also on Apple TV – Greyhound with Tom Hanks was way better than I imagined. Sort of a day-in-the-life of a navy commander during The Battle of the Atlantic in World War II. I’d recommend.
A belly full of food
We all know I am going to be the worst at picking just one food-related highlight to tell you about so I’ll start as I mean to go on. The summer pavlova at my pal’s wedding was delightful (and beautiful) with the incredibly tasty vegetable tagine (with coconut rice) served as the main coming in at a close second. Some of the best food I’ve had at a wedding. Also shout out to the warm treacle tart & clotted cream I had in a Cotswold pub.
Show & Tell
Gary and I have been huge fans of Rock Rose Gin since we did our North Coast 500 road trip. We now order in gin by post from Scotland (I know, we’re those people) and I was really quite excited when I discovered that they are now doing refillable gin pouches. You can refill your empty beautiful gin bottle and then literally just pop the pouch straight back in the post, no envelope, where it will go back to the distillery for recycling!
Tiny, happy moments
Star gazing whilst glamping in rural Norfolk. We were sat by a bonfire wrapped in blankets and the sky was bursting with stars; it was beautiful.
How's your month been?
Hey there!
