Great Railway Journeys Number 1
North Walsham to Norwich
By guest writer Thom Yorke from Radiohead
I board the train at North Walsham, where it is 5 minutes late. Sitting down I find I am next to a man who is wearing a 'best of British' T-shirt. There is irony in this although that is not his intention.
How many others will be doing this now, heading to a faceless job in a false-friendly office, to fuck one another over for change? To Facelessly dictate faceless letters into a faceless dictaphone, or facelessly type numbers of faceless things into a faceless machine.
As the train pulls out I am struck by the sharp odour of vomit. I put it from my mind and close my eyes to rest. The smell intensifies, an illusion brought about by focusing on one less sense.
At Worstead I stand for a moment to let the T-shirt man get off. The vomit smell disperses and I believe he may have been the source. Another illusion: the smell returns as the air begins to flow through the now moving train. Another human being I have thought ill of for nothing.
Ooh. The pain.
The station for Hoveton and Wroxham escapes my notice. I have somehow entered a restful state. In front of me a man eats mints. Their scent masks that of the puke.
Salhouse. A solitary station remote from the village it is supposed to serve, as barren as my sense of hope.
Arrival. I remain uncertain as to the source of the smell as I disembark and begin a day of misery in Norwich. The chances are I will never know. Another trivial mystery in my life that will remain unsolved.
Next week, Norwich to North Walsham with Mr C from The Shamen.
Mr Yorke requested this page be done in monospaced 12 pixel Courier on a grimy white background, so as to best communicate his tortured artist's soul. We told him to fuck off, and then kicked his shins a bit as he stood looking angst-ridden. Radiohead released their new album Kid A in October.