This morning, through the grime of the train window I saw a fiery sunrise. It lit the sky with a cleansing brilliance so at odds with what lay beneath. Upon the ground was the usual scattered confusion of humanity who, automaton like, thronged towards their workplaces. Some clasped steaming Styrofoam cups of coffee, some were connected to their personal musical worlds, all looked as if they would prefer to be somewhere other than where they were. I gazed at the burning sky and was reminded of the nobler aspects of travel. How I have seen similar illuminated skies from the small windows of airliners as a foreign sun slowly rose from beneath a foreign horizon. How I have seen dawns banish the dark from the windows of unfamiliar airports to unveil new and unexpected vistas of life outside in a land new to me, whilst the unmistakable smell of aviation fuel wafts at intervals through the terminal halls. However no such exotic promise was allowed me whilst sitting in my crowded train this morning. In place of aircraft fuel was the smell of overly applied perfumes and aftershaves overlying the natural train carriage aroma of ground in human indifference and desperation.