Modern life is rubbish (Richmond to Uxbridge) - In the name of Thiago - Day 268
However, I did very nearly lose my shit in the Red Lion - our final stop for the day - when we were told to order from the app, as opposed to the person who was telling this in a virtually empty pub. Camilla had had to leave a little earlier in the day and Quinton and Nick both had dead batteries and my fucking phone isn't scanning QR codes apart from the NHS Test and Trace one. The lady telling us all this could very easily have taken an order and her colleague eventually did. Hence, Modern Life is Rubbish.
All of the above is something of an over-reaction on my part and probably reflects my slightly troubled state of mind today. Bloody grief is a bitch I tell you. Apologies in advance and all that.
And here we are, the famous four, (left to right: Quinton, Camilla, yours truly and Nick) just after we'd belatedly made it via Brentford FC to the Grand Union Canal somewhere I thought I wouldn't be leaving other than to meet people at stations and stop off at pubs.
It didn't quite pan out that way today. We had faffed about something chronic at the beginning for which I take full responsibility and it wasn't long before I had us heading off in the wrong direction. I honestly don't know how I do it, it's a gift!
As I mentioned, we stopped via here and well I can't really stop myself when it comes to having photos outside football grounds. It was nice enough but as I saw the signs for it from a couple of streets away it didn't have the same jaw-dropping magnificence, as when I approached Haywards Heath Town last Monday. Yes, I am being serious, and yes, I know I'm a bit fucked in the head.
It has given me an idea though: I've always been fascinated by places that are at the end of something whether it be an extremity of coastline, a ferry port or a straightforward train or underground line (I'll get to Uxbridge later - we did eventually make it there) but how about visiting places that are the end of canals. A wander from Tring to Brentford via the Grand Union Canal probably isn't something that will appear in a travelogue in a good bookshop near you any time soon I suspect..
This was just after boarding the tube at Uxbridge. I reckon it took an hour and forty minutes to get from here to Colliers Wood tonight. I shall be making my way back there in the opposite direction setting off at about 9am I guess to make sure that I'm back at the very end of the Metropolitan line to greet my old flatmate and walking partner for the next three walking days: Mr Simon Eastland.