This weekend in Bristol was ace, and there were moments when I remember trying to work out when last I laughed that much. It helps if you're with people who make situations funny and memorable, instead of moaning when things go against them. It was nice to unexpectedly bump into friends from other towns. It rained, but it made the Sunday afternoon pub crawl even more cosy. Bristol is the deadest place on earth on a Sunday and we were hard pressed to even find a shop open let alone a pub, but when you have a warm hand to hold on to and someone's stories to listen to and exciting plans to make, it really doesn't matter how far you have to walk in the cold to find signs of life.
On the train, halfway back to London, I said something along the lines of enjoying this journey and wanting to prolong it. It was nice just to have so many things to talk about, and it seemed a shame to get off the train and go home. Minutes later the train stopped and didn't move for another two hours while they cleared the suicide off the track (sorry). Despite the gloomy reason for the delay, it was the most entertaining train journey ever. Somehow it still didn't seem that long a journey, even when I fell into bed at 2am knowing I had to get up again in four hours. And instead of sleeping, I had another laughing fit.
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