Hurray for St David

Other than being my brother's birthday, and the birthday of the son of the conductor of the train I'm on (you'll see why that's relevant in a moment), it's also St David's Day. Do you know what or who St David is the patron saint of? You'll see why that's relevant in a moment.

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Regular readers will know I was a bit unwell last week. I had a cold. I also had a number of pressing assignments at work. And I am now 6.5 months pregnant - or thereabouts. I was so excited about no longer being a smoker and having the post cold dregs settling in my chest that I didn't really account for the cold + baby double whammy on my system. And then I was pulling out as many stops as I could muster for work, too.

Yesterday, I was really struggling, finishing off assignments (including a surprise one of cooking up an hour and a half workshop in an area I know little about), plus I needed to travel up to Liverpool - plus prepping for my speaking gig today, plus remember that surpise assigment? I only just figured out yesterday that I had 3 hours of workshop facilitation today.

Needless to say, I didn't catch the early train I wanted to in order to have a chilled evening before the event today. I was rushing for the train I did manage. Unfortunately, so was everyone else wanting to go to Liverpool and a train load of people who had wanted to go to Manchester, but had suffered the disappointment of a cancellation.

The way it works is everybody stands around in the main hall of the station and waits to be told which platform they will be departing from. Usually the info is posted well in advance, but yesterday it was only moments before departure. Platform 18 was announced and my heart sank. That one's so far away it's practically in a different borough. The herd set off - and though I didn't know about the cancelled Manchester train - I could tell a heck of a lot of people were trying for that train - and they were all moving a lot faster than I was in the hope of getting a seat.

So I'm huffing and puffing and dragging my heavy pack and I can see I'm probably not going to get a seat. And I know I'm not going to make it the 2 and a half hours to Liverpool stood up.

I kinda collapsed in a seat - despite the fact I could see they'd been reserved. And I was so despondent at the thought of trying to fight my way to a seat that I sobbed and gasped - and frankly couldn't stop. Fortunately, the place I'd stopped was opposite the train manager's office. And they took pity on me and let me sit there and wouldn't let anyone sit next to me despite the fact that there were people sitting on the floor of the vestibules and even in the aisles.

Not that anyone would have wanted to sit next to me really since it took me just about an hour to catch my breath. Seriously.

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The presentation went ok. It was one of the few times in my professional life where I could make a joke about half nekkid men appearing in soft focus in a calendar and get away with it. I could not let such an opportunity pass unseized. I did surely objectify the firemen I was speaking about and to - and I should feel bad about it. But I can't think of a more deserving group. And they were putty in my hands after that.

The facilitation was a little tougher. But I managed. I put a lot into my presentations and I'm pretty exhausted now. I did manage to catch the train from Liverpool a lot more easily and landed a seat no problem. But travel is still exhausting.

The train conductor was in a jolly mood - it being his son's birthday I guess. He chirpily announced it over the train PA - and he also informed us all that it's St David's Day. He's the patron saint of Wales. I know this because I know a lot of useless trivia, but it's the kind of thing I think many Brits would know. Our conductor promised an upgrade to first class for the first person who could tell him who or what David did the patronly saint thing for. I didn't believe him. And I certainy thought that even if it were true - someone else would be able to answer before me.

But when he walked through the carriage asking the question, I shouted out the answer. The compulsion to shout out trivia got me to be captain of the Quiz Bowl team in high school and today it got me bumped up to first class.

Free drinks, a light snack and plenty of leg room.

Hurray for St David. (Who is also, according to Wikipedia, the patron saint of Pembrokeshire, poets, vegetarians and free upgrades.)