Being a fairly experienced bus driver, I feel I am qualified to talk about travel sickness, having seen most forms of it. Train travel I thought was immune from this sort of behaviour.
How wrong can you be?
The wholesome Edinburgh ladies sitting at my table were hoiking back the bottles of German lager as they competed for space with their large laptops. But they were not the problem. It another large lady who had boarded the train at Peterborough.
She sat two seats in front of me. I watched her get up, sit down, get up, sit down as if she had ants in her pants. Finally she stood up and made a determined move for the aisle. As she came closer, she suddenly raised her hand to her mouth. Had she forgotten something?
Of course not. When she was level with my table, she chundered. All over my shoulder. Maybe like a bird shitting on a shoulder, this could be viewed as good luck. We shall see. At the moment I am only thinking about the cleaning bill.
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