Colin lives just outside London in what was a small, sleepy market town. He appears to be a fairly sensible chap to me. I mean he admits he is an Irish immigrant himself and argues that if you want to stretch the time frame we are all immigrants at some juncture. I listen to his story.
He is on his way to London (an hour away by train) and he goes into the toilet to urinate.
He is aghast at what he witnesses in the mens' toilet. There are two bearded young
men washing their feet in the hand basins. The wear long gowns and the full regalia of their belief system. Colin backs away to the Platform and wonders has he been hallucinating?
Now he watches other men walk in to the toilet, hesitate at the door and then turn away.
Their jaws have dropped and not metaphorically.
The two bearded men now exit the toilet walk along the platform, place their cloth jackets down
as mats, take off their sandals, lower their heads and begin chanting their prayers.
The stoic Brit' commuters gather to witness this. They appear to be astonished.
Do they have a right to be?
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