Writing your blog entry on a mobile phone because you’ve bought loads of paper and no pens shows you are either very absent minded or very resourceful.

I’m plumping for the latter. Well actually I’m praising the inventor of predictive text, even though my phone didn’t seem to recognise the word plumping.

The reason why I’m using a phone and not tapping away on the usual QWERTY keyboard is that I’ve pooped on a train headed Oxford bound for the Cornbury Music Festival. You can read all about that here .

And it’s this journey that’s made me think that travelling by overground is both the most relaxing and irritating experience all at once.

Trying to get to London Paddington from East Croydon was something of a trial. Let’s get the repeat moan out the way - people, let folk of the tram before you board. Particularly if the poor feeb you’re pushing back on the departing tram is sporting heavy bags.

http://www.yourlocalguardian.co.uk/_images/misc/Danblog/Station

I headed in East Croydon to pick up a ticket bent double at the ticket machine - only to be denied the option of buying a ticket to London Paddington. I’m sure a more seasoned traveller than me, or just any traveller that knows what station’s in what zone, could have managed to work the beastly thing.

I however, was struck with the chilling realisation I would have to queue for a ticket. I have, in the past, seen young couples saving samples of sperms and eggs for fear they will no longer be fertile when they finally get to the ticket window.

The whole feeling surrounding the station equals stress. Partly because the sunshine seems to stream in through the station’s glass plated front onto every monitor dazzling you every time you turn to them for information.

Then there are the barriers. Now I now they are necessary - although positioning them carefully at groin height is not - but I can’t help but feel when forced through them that I’m a sheep on its way to be dipped or slaughtered.

Eventually after negotiating the grim Tube system I made it to my train. Ducked and dived round wheeled cases. Side stepped to avoid seemingly insane fellow passengers. Go on, stowed my luggage and then to much of my relief pulled out two beers from bag and sat back to watch the world roll past.

As I was gently taken into the weekend the queues, the extortionate cost, the stress almost all forgotten. Well until the return trip that is.

What’s your favourite way to travel? Use the comment feature below.