Trainspotting

I was in Brighton at the weekend for my sister's hen do. It's a four hour journey from start to finish, and as soon as I had squeezed onto the train I realised that nowhere in my several bags of things I had no need for had I packed a book.

I'd brought a manicure set, face masks, craft stuff, a sleeping bag, three changes of clothes, swimming stuff, towels, a flannel, cosmetics, four pairs of socks (what was I afraid of - hypothermia?!), millions of felt tips... but no paper to doodle on, and definitely no lovely beautiful bound book full of words to keep me from boredom.

So I decided to look out of the window. Four hours is a long time, but the world decided to give me the best journey I have ever had.

By Warminster, a man in a bright red kilt with equally eye-dazzling frilly red top had revealed himself to my frankly disbelieving gaze, followed by a guy in his 50's with a fluorescent top and lycra shorts. Even blinking rapidly, it took until Salisbury to get them unbranded from my eyelids. (Pretty sure the person next to me thought I was having a stroke... I think giving me CPR was a little uncalled for, though.)

A woman with three kids in matching outfits, having coordinated herself to match. Like a boss. You have to respect a woman with a sense of humour like that.

Two random llamas who stared gloomily back at me in a field we slowed down by. It was raining, and they didn't look impressed.

Field after field of scant woolly handfuls of life. I was more than happy to make appropriately cutesy noises, but sheep, please bear in mind that in a few months' time all you will inspire in me is a reflex grab towards mint sauce.

A bloke wearing a cowprint onesie with a tail, standing next to his friend who was dressed as a cowboy with a pair of horns under one arm. Presumably they belonged to the cow, and his friend wasn't pretending he'd hunted him or something.

And the best of all: a guy wearing a where's wally scarf and a red bobble hat. I very nearly got off the train just to meet this brilliant example of all that's good in humanity. I'm pretty sure that glompfing a complete stranger isn't socially acceptable, but I'd like to think that man like that could forgive a few quirks in other people.

C'est tout. Oh how wide and deep and colourful you can be, humanity.