My train trip to London started out all right; good weather, plenty of time to pick up my ticket. about a half hour out of Glasgow, though, I remembered my last train to London, the one that impelled me to pick up some motion sickness pills. the pills that I had left behind at the flat. The first ninety minutes or so were dreadful. I was sweating and queasy and altogether fiercely nauseous. At that point though I gave up the fight against my innards, and let them have their way. For the last part of the trip, i’ve felt merely uncomfortable rather than miserable. Not the most enjoyable journey in history.