THE TRAIN TO GATWICK AIRPORT

I’m on the way to Spain for our work offsite. It’s a warm sunny morning and the hedges and houses of Surrey flash by the train.

I feel pleasant. It’s a cool, emptyish carriage, and I managed to get a seat near the luggage rack. I have snacks and water, and a full rucksack, and everything is going smoothly so far.

There are quite a few other travellers on the train to Gatwick. A row of multicoloured suitcases lines up next to mine, and there are people with shorts, and sunglasses pushed into their hair. There are caps and headphones and bright t-shirts. What there doesn’t seem to be is a lot of happiness.

Maybe it’s the stress of modern-day holidays. Passengers are quietly scrolling phones, not talking to each other. One lady behind me has just been ‘assertive’ to her children about the fact that they are not getting a dog.

“The answer is absolutely no!” she just reasserted crossly. She seems adamant, in the same way a granite cliff might when faced with an argument. “Absolutely not!” she bellows again.

Speaking of cliffs, I wonder how this moodiness compares with that old 50s ideal of throwing everything into a case, jumping on a refurbished London bus with your pals and singing your way across Europe. I think people did a lot more singing about going on holiday than they do these days.

Anyway. This is not a holiday for me. It’s technically work, though staying in a beachfront hotel in Torremolinos and visiting Malaga during a heatwave will make the lines very blurred indeed. My main evidence for claiming it’s not a holiday though, is that Sammy is not with me. And without her, it’s not quite got the carefree texture a vacation might. Also, I’ll be there with colleagues. To be honest (and I don’t want to sound ungrateful that work do this kind of thing) I’m not all that sure I’m looking forward to it.

The sidings are rich green out there, and fields and telegraph poles flicker under a cornflower blue sky. England is miraculously beautiful. As is the half reflection of me, floating over the summer view from the train window. My path is to make the most of all these opportunities - to seek the glimpses of God in moments ahead, and to be the best I can be. So says my reflection. Gatwick next.