C2A: Dover

The train gets into King’s Cross with 10 minutes for us to hustle across the street to St Pancras. We debark and head out into a crowds in front of the station, powerwalking our bikes across the street and directly across the prow of a humming electric Black Cab.

Inside St Pancras we part a tour group of elderly French folks and then board an escalator marked “no bicycles” with both of our bicycles. We make it on board the longest train I’ve ever seen with 3 minutes to spare.

HS1 to Ashford takes no time at all. Then the local to Dover, where we get a kebab and then head up the road to the hotel.

But it turns out that the hotel is 5 km and 150m of climbing away. So by the time we get to the hotel we’re both sweaty and out of breath and ready for a lie down.

We arrive at Hartlepool Station in plenty of time. The station master is helping two lads navigate the ticket kiosk. “It’s cheaper if you get a duo,” he says helpfully, and also extremely quickly.

We collect our (eleven) tickets and post up in the lounge. The station master apologises to us personally for the Kings Cross train being late.

I wander over to the GoLocal for a couple of gatorades. There are two kids there trying to haggle with the cashier, who doesn’t seem to be paying any attention to anything at all. I collect gatorades and a couple beers and hustle back.

On my return, the station manager tells us that the train is “definitelys on time” but two minutes later tells us dubiously that he believes the train will be cancelled, mind.

We climb over to platform 3 anyway.

Shortly the station manager approaches the end of the platform across the tracks with the air of a conductor on the dais. “The train has just left Sunderland,” he announces, “you’re definitelys going to Kings Cross.”