Trying a Trolley and Taking the Train

My heart belongs to London but every so often I will travel beyond its six hundred and forty square miles to explore further afield.  Today was one of those days with a jolly jaunt to the land of academia.  Five layers of clothing were required to defend myself on the chilly cycle ride to the train station.  For once, I was greeted by a healthy team of Boris Bikes at the stalls near my flat.  I hate to imagine what time the rack will empty tomorrow morning as the dreaded tube strike, strikes again.  A second advantage of travelling by bike on a Sunday morning in near freezing temperatures is that every sane person is snuggled up in bed with the newspaper and as such the roads are clear.  Freewheeling through Marylebone, Fitzrovia and Euston, the feeling in my lips quickly disappeared as the rosy colour in my face increased with fervour.  The motivation spurring my feet to fight the wind force was knowing that the next mode of transport would be shielded from the cold and reassuringly swift.  Entering the ticket hall, crowds in all directions gazed hopefully at the many signs displaying train times.  There is one platform at King's Cross Station that does not show up on the bank of screens.  It is of course platform 9 and 3/4 which Harry Potter and his chums use to journey to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.  Fortunately, the good people at the train company have fixed a marker on the wall to indicate the whereabouts of this mysterious departure point.  Following numerous attempts by would be wizards to ram themselves against innocent walls in order to join Harry and capture the action on camera, the authorities have conveniently positioned a luggage trolley.  This prevents injury and enhances any photographic imagery.  Magic!  I joined the line up for my turn, along with puzzled children and their eager mothers and fathers.  Some parents had clearly brought their offspring along for pretence, attempting to fool strangers and themselves that the visit was for their youngsters' benefit, rather than their own.  One set of siblings aged around three and four years old were clearly confused.  The look on their faces said, "Harry who?" as they dutifully held the handle of the trolley and smiled for the family album.  This was not quite up to the standards of a visit to Santa.  My turn came and I clutched, pushed and prayed but my efforts were fruitless as the wheels would not budge.  The trolley transport had failed.  Despite the initial disappointment, I was able to journey beyond the confines of King's Cross and reach the land of learning in a mere 48 minutes.  Moments away located on platform 8, was a train destined to Cambridge.  Undoubtably, the town makes for a splendid excursion.  Stunning stone work, a bridge so beautiful it inspires one to sigh and tasty tea houses galore, mean the train ride out of London is worth while.  Hogwarts can wait for another day.