Well, it’s back to the daily trundle on the train now that my holiday’s over. I finished late this evening and walked from work to the Valley-of-the-Pigs station to catch what was bound to be my delayed train home. My route takes me down a street parallel to the railway line, and at the point I always think of as “two minutes from the station”, I heard a loud voice. I looked around. There was nobody near enough to be heard talking around me. But I wasn’t hearing things: my little cochlea was doing just fine. It was recognisably the station announcement for the previous train floating down the street to meet me.