All over bar the coughing

Later today (after some hours of sleep, a spot of breakfast, and a drive to the local mainline station) I shall be heading back to the thrills and spills of life down London-way. It looks as if my various festive ailments will have largely subsidied just in the nick of time for me to start work again on Tuesday, although I have a suspicion that the irritating, tickly cough I'm currently hosting will prove just as endearing to my work colleagues over the coming days as it presently is proving to myself.

I blame the in-flight air-conditioning on the train up for distributing all of the bugs, bacteria and virii which would have otherwise been limited to a few unlucky carriers and their intimately held partners. All of these modern trains are hygenically sealed, as it's a well known fact that if a train tilts at 125mph with the windows open, all the air will fall out the side and everyone on-board will suffocate. So it is then that we have to endure recycled air instead, even though there's tonnes of the stuff in full fresh form rushing around the edges of a train at any given moment. Hopefully I'll avoid picking up a further bout of the lurgi tomorrow, but since I've not got over the first lot myself yet, I'll probably still have the honour of being one of the kind passengers passing around complimentary ailments along with a copy of the Times and a trademark BR curled-edge sandwich.

Next stop "you stun".