Across Continents

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Westerly brewing

My choice of words conveyed my distain. Rather well I thought. Brief and to the point. I’d almost laughed but instead had chosen to be abrupt. Purchased not a cup of tea, but rather a cup of tepid water and a separate tea bag I’d have to unwrap and dunk myself. A good brew this could never be. Self-assembly I’d said to the woman behind the buffet car’s overly tall counter.

A man had appeared from the galley. They were not, he explained, allowed to touch the tea bags lest they spread disease amongst the passengers. Now I laughed. Conveying a sense of ridicule I hoped. This, I said loudly, was ’ealth and Safety gone quite mad. He seemed surprised by my assertion.

Back at my seat a young woman stared and tutted as I clambered back in. Her boyfriend was sprawled out in the seat opposite, fast asleep. She woke him and muttered something about it being a Quiet carriage. He soon dozed off once more. I supped my tea loudly. Must definitely stick with the buses.

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