I started late, which was foolish and it meant I had to get to Guildford from Farnham in under five hours, before the sun set. 'Remember, get on the back of the train, or you will end up to Basingstoke', says the man selling tickets. I sat waiting on platform three next to a disheveled young man eating a sandwich. I'm listening to Classic FM . How Bach , a jobbing musician, wrote a variation based on one of Vivaldi's 200 concertos. But the hiss increased on the train and so I switched it off and looked at the landscape. After a few stops two boys got on, 15 or 16, with vests on and I listened to their conversation. What language was it? East European perhaps. It never quite came into focus but it was clearly English. I have never heard such strange English in my life. The accent made it almost incomprehensible. It wasn't west country or east country. They came and sat behind me and when the ticket inspector came, I heard the whole argument. They
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