Chilly bake

I don't know who designs trains. I wonder whether someone wakes up aged 13 and over their boiled egg at breakfast says to their dad "daddy I am going to design train carriages when I grow up". Come to think of it I don't know anyone who has boiled egg for breakfast...

But that's off the point.

I am sitting on my train and feel compelled to share with you, dearly beloveds, one of the big niggles of my daily existence.

Whoever DOES design trains seems to think we all want to cook our flesh below the ankle. My feet are daily subjected to a constant stream of uncomfortably hot air, which can only be balanced by the over head air conditioning.

So my feet cook while my hair lightly blows around my chilling scalp, occasionally flicking past my nose and making me sneeze.

The delights.