Cappuccino

I strode purposefully through the first scatterings of autumn leaves that littered London's pavements this beautifully mild morning. With reference manual in one hand and a small brown bag with an almond croissant and a grande cappuccino in the other, it was difficult to glance at my wristwatch; even more difficult to consult the map that had been provided.

This, the first day of my course, had not started well.

"A weekly travelcard, please."

"Do you have a passport photo?"

I stared back blankly. No, of course not. I don't carry around a stack of embarrassing photos just in case. Fortunately a booth was close by, and I just managed to catch my train. Once in London, I twice had to stand and watch as an underground train left the platform, packed to bursting, without me on it.

When I finally got to the training room, put down my books and sat down, a glance at my watch told me that I was one minute late. Phew!

Since we need to be seated 30 minutes earlier tomorrow, a new plan is now required.