A commuter’s life

I’ve just spent two consecutive days in London, travelling up and down the line from Saxmundham to Liverpool Street. On both days I had interviews lined up with successful business owners for my next book, as well on the second day as a trustee meeting at Friends’ House. The interviews, and the trustee meeting, were good, as was a visit to the National Gallery with a friend.

From Liverpool Street Station to my house takes two hours and five minutes, with a change of trains at Ipswich. That change involves crossing from one side of the station to the other, with my second train leaving exactly nine minutes after the London train arrives. That leaves no time for dawdling. If I miss the train to Saxmundham, the next one is an hour later.

I’ve come to know which carriage to ride in, so that I can step off the train at Ipswich next to the stairs, which saves me a few minutes. On my way down, I always have a cappuccino at Ipswich, followed by a pee at Liverpool Street. Repeating the journey the next day reminded me that this is a habit I would repeat every day if commuting, and although I am an infrequent traveller to London, I have already created a routine that requires liitle thought.

Today will be a quiet, more contemplative day, with a lunchtime visit to the gym and work to do at my desk. To spend all my time travelling would be tedious, and to spend all my time at my desk writing would also lose its appeal. Variety is what is increaingly defining my life as an author, and as that is how I have chosen to spend my life, that’s a good thing.