Trials and Tribulations of Health and Safety

We had to go out yesterday via our usual mode of transport namely a bus. The following post is all about our return journey but before you read it, it might be a good idea to point you to a previous post concerning the rules issued to all drivers who are unfortunate enough to have to work on our particular bus route because it will go some way to explaining the extraordinary events that enfolded during our fateful journey.  Unfortunately for my two readers,  this post will not be liberally illustrated with photos/pictures etc, as I did not have my camera with me to capture the occasion,  so you will just have to use your imagination.

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Rules of etiquette for train travel.

This particular post has been solely prompted after reading an excellent post on the subject from another WordPress blogger. You can read his thoughts HERE on rules that he feels should be observed when travelling on a train. As he is only 22 years of age and a therefore a mere whippersnapper, his etiquette rules, although I do agree with most of them, do not exactly fit my bill as the ideal ‘code of conduct’ for train travel. So with that thought in mind I have decided to add some of my own train travel etiquette rules.  Of course, he may simply spend most of his journey time on short commuter journeys whereas most of mine of late have tended to be of a fairly long duration. Anyway, less of the blathering and onto my rules for train travel.

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The Early birds………….

Whilst doing our weekly shop last Sunday, I was very nearly driven to actually hitting someone with one of the items in my basket, either that or suddenly losing control and charging willy nilly into every shopper in sight with my trolley screaming my head off. (they would have come to take me away, but it would have been worth it.) There was a time when K and I were the only shoppers (well apart from perhaps one or two more) who did our shopping on a Sunday, but lately we have been joined by  every man, woman, nattering child, screaming infant, and yes, even the occasional dog who now pile into Tesco’s every Sunday morning.  We badly needed a cunning  plan.

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