Seniorittas blooming into English roses in the space of hours…

 It’s amazing how quick I can get from where I live in Barcelona to good old London town. It’s like leading a double life. I trundle down the calle with my suitcase dodging bandy legged Senoras and spitting Senorittas, get on the train and I’m at Barcelona airport. Couresy of Mr Helios I’m soon landing at Luton and on the Thameslink and not long after that I pull up at the massive construction site of Kings Cross. In an instant I have swapped the hoardes of Catalans muppets for the huge swathes of English ones. The old cliche rings true, it’s a small world and its getting smaller.

I do this journey a lot and one of the biggest differences is the city centre to airport trainride. The one to Barcelona airport costs 2.5 Euros on a clean train with classical music piped in and a guaranteed seat. Oh and it’s always on time. At the other side a journey into the centre of Londinium from the airport costs at least ten pounds – 7 times more – on creaky old trains that are always late and crowded with the seats falling apart. Instantly I’m stressed. Welcome home.