So much about traveling depends on the kindness of others and their willingness to answer usually dumb questions. We’ve seen this kindness in the bus driver who gave us a free ride when we didn’t have exact change in Dublin, the girls who walked us to our next destination in Tuam, and, today, the guy in a bright red jacket in Piccadilly station in Manchester.
This morning, we headed out with our backpacks in hand to the train station, where we were to catch a 12:15 train to London. Because we left 45 minutes before our train, I wasn’t even paying attention to the time as our bus dropped people off at every stop.
When we finally arrived at the tram to the train station, the bright digital clock above the platform read 12:09. Our bags suddenly felt a bit heavier.
We raced up the escalators of the train station…
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