Hurrah! Finally arrived in Blackpool after only seven hours on train! It was v efficient, only had to change twice, and the engineering works only stopped us for an hour or so. Don’t know what all the fuss is about public transport – seems perfectly fine.
DD talked me through all the likely problems with signalling failures and buffet car closures, so we took a nice picnic of smoked salmons and champers and I read another whole chapter of the Gordon Brown biography. V scary.
Anyway, who cares about him – now we are going to win again. Only six points behind in the polls! Bit of a struggle making it off the train carrying v heavy bag full of policies. I’ve two got two Louis Vuitton bags stuffed full of housing, transport and child care. Weighs a tonne. Can’t complain, though. Poppy had an enormous Mulberry hold-all full of tax cuts. She could hardly lift.
Meanwhile, stamp duty cuts must be good news for all keen philatelists in our forgotten heartlands.
Must say Blackpool looks very jolly. Lots of Union Jacks around the place. Glad Dave lifted our ban on flying the flag – well, no choice, really, when you consider the alternative was to plaster the town in pictures of our green squiggle tree. And I don’t think even the über-modernisers in the Rebranding Department would be that silly.
No sign of Mrs T yet, Dave convinced she’ll turn up later. Jed was on phone to her office non-stop yesterday offering to send the plane. Am sure she’s on her way…
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