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The last train out of London is a slow one.

April 2, 2010

From October 2008 to December 2009, I lived about a half hour outside of London. That is, it took 30 minutes on a fast train to get from my town to Paddington station. Or the reverse.

The last fast train was around midnight though. After midnight, there were only local trains. So if you were lucky enough to catch the very last train for the night, then you were unlucky enough to have to stop at

every

single

small

town

between the lights of London and the ultimate walk home through the city centre of my town, a university town.

Imagine the drunkenness I witnessed. During both legs of my journey.

I watched people pass out and miss their stops. I watched people pass out and drool. I listened as competing factions of football fans attempted to out sing each other with their teams’ cheers.

Young males posturing, college girls flirting, it was all so predictable every time.

And I’m not quite sure what made me start thinking about those late night journeys again, but yesterday, I decided to make a mix, inspired by the hour-long train ride that felt four times as long. Then I decided to share that mix:

Photobucket
Click the picture to download.

We have the initial whoosh of excitement as you realize you’ve made it just in time to catch the train. Immediately leading to the gritty determination needed to last the full hour with this crowd of late-night revelers. The slow, slightly dragging middle ground, when you hear the conductor announce Slough and you realize you still have half the trip left.

And finally, the excitement that starts to build as you realize you’re almost there, and you reflect on the fact that the night was a good one, the air outside is crisp, and the walk home is exactly what you need to shake off the griminess of the last train out of London.

I hope you enjoy it.

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