A ride on the Flying Scotsman

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Actually, on the topic of old machines that make my Nan look like the fucking youngest thing in the world. The Flying Scotsman. You know the train that’s been across the world, broken records? Fuck me it’s old! It’s as old as Mickey Mouse at this point!

I can tell you, I've been on that train and seen it around. It's like being in a Time Machine! You get on board, and suddenly it's all wooden benches and steam hissing everywhere. I half-expected Sherlock Holmes to pop out from one of the compartments, looking for clues!

And the speed? Well, they call it the 'Flying' Scotsman, but I'm convinced it's more like the 'Crawling' Scotsman. You know you're in for a leisurely ride when you're passing snails on the tracks!

I swear, I heard a conductor once, with a long white beard, leaning out the window, shouting, “Hold on, lads, we're picking up speed!”

“Really? That’s a fucking surprise!”

But let's talk about the dining car, shall we? I think the term 'dining' is a bit generous. It's more like a picnic in a closet. You have to perform these acrobatic manoeuvres just to get your elbows in the right position to eat. I accidentally elbowed a poor bloke in the face while trying to spread the butter on my food! He clearly wasn’t appreciative as he tried to punch me and instead broke the fucking window beside me..

“Holy shit, are you alright mate?”

“My hand!”

“I’m talking to the fucking train mate, not you.”

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