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The first time I've taken the train to the Edinburgh Fringe in a good long while. And this time I had two kids and two heavy suitcases in tow. It was going to be a breeze?
I was hopeful that it would be an easy journey. We could walk to the station, get a train to Peterborough and then we had a table booked on the connecting train to Edinburgh. Simples.
We were ready early and so could take any Peterborough train, so went down ahead of our scheduled time. The train arrived on time and there was hardly anyone on it. Nothing can possibly go wrong, I declared.
We played Top Trumps. I was down to one card and it wasn't a good one, but Catie chose poorly, I won a hand and came back to win. Phoebe cried. What a victory. Surely this was a sign that I was going to have the best Fringe ever.
We arrived in Peterborough with 40 minutes before our connection and had a drink and some crisps. I bumped into Simon Munnery who is foolishly doing the Fringe after having been quite ill. This magnet draws us all back.
Our train pulled in, but it was very full and it looked like we might not even be able to get on. The corridors were full, but we had a table booked..... It became apparent that a train had been cancelled and there were two loads of passengers on this one and that consequently all reservations were cancelled. Catie didn't know this and had managed to get to "our" table whilst I looked after the suitcases - there was nowhere to put them obviously.
In a stroke of extraordinary luck Catie persuaded the tourists in our seats that we had booked the table and because they weren't from the UK they were polite enough to respect that and got up and let us have our table. I can't imagine how horrible the journey would have been if they hadn't. It was still largely awful as I had to put one suitcase on the table and one underneath it and was living in fear that if the train braked sharply the suitcase might slide and crush or decapitate my kids. It was not comfortable, but it could have been a lot worse.
Thank goodness this journey wasn't costing us hundreds of pounds. Oh wait.
Maybe making a child cry hadn't been the sign, maybe a dangerous cramped and unpleasant train journey was the sign. Phoebe beat me at Top Trumps twice. I cried.
Once we got to Durham (about three hours later) the congestion had eased off enough for most people to sit down and for me to get the suitcases in the luggage rack. It had been so horrible before that I almost felt grateful for the relative comfort. This is how they use psychological torture to get you on side.
We arrived in Edinburgh frazzled, but OK and then walked to our ridiculously expensive flat, which was a bit too close to get a taxi to, but actually just a bit too far to walk with suitcases. The location of the accommodation is great and it's more spacious than I thought it might be, though filled with loads of art and artefacts and the kids found it a bit spooky.
We went for an early dinner at Bar Napoli, a restaurant I used to come to a lot back in the day. The waiting staff have always been a little disdainful there and I was glad to see that tradition was upheld. I asked for an alcohol free lager, but our waiter brought me an alcoholy one. Luckily/unluckily I noticed and after insisting he was right, he had to admit that he wasn't and swapped it for me.
The pasta was fantastic and just what I needed after a stressful day.
Bar Napoli has no public wifi or phone signal and a chalked sign encouraged us to talk like it was 1995. I actually came here in 1995. I am part of history.
My favourite bit was where I tried to make a joke about beating off a bear and Chris either missed it or deliberately ignored it!
