Leaving the house, I check my phone. There's a message from someone further up the line to say that my train is carryng a lot more people than usual. Damn - should have caught the earlier one.
Getting to the station I see two families of four wander in to the coffee shop before me - Oh, and there's a
Gamesmaker in there already. It looks as though the normal coffee-making routine has gone out of the window.
Five minutes later - Oh dear, there are lots of people on the platform. Aforementioned Gamesmakers, little darlings clearly dragged out of bed, oh and the usual motley crew of commuters who keep the railway mandarins in their accustomed manner for the rest of the year.
Another message comes through - train really full. It's running 2 minutes late (it rarely does that - a measure of how full it is?). Our little cluster of regular travellers all start to collectively sigh, resigned to standing all the way to Marylebone.
The train come around the corner. We shuffle into a short line.
Deep breath.
Elbows deployed.
Train decelerates quickly, doors stop directly in front of us. Hmmmm. Something's wrong.
There are seats-a-plenty. We each sit down, puzzled.
The train pulls out three minutes late. We look around - the train now runs fast to London Marylebone and there are two empty seats. Chiltern Railways have not done anything special (they can't - they don't have spare trains), but the expected carnage has not appeared.
Actually, that isn't true - I think it is pretty full at the front of this train. Our little group of hardened commuters just made use of the really secret ingredient of successful commuting - the back door. Shush though - don't tell anyone!
