Train talk
Just got in from work.
Memo – don’t allow any Russians to visit again because they tend to leave vodka, tomato juice, whisky, apple cider, borodinski bread, mushrooms and pickled cucumbers, which need to be polished off.
Sometimes I think I’m a right bstd.
I reached the junction station and the electronic board said that to get to my terminus, I had to get on the train back to where I’d come from and then change trains. This necessitated a trip to the ticket office, where they cheerfully told me to ignore that but to follow the destination on the front of the train, as it came in.
Fine.
The next train came in and three other chaps and I were eagerly awaiting any indication that this might be our train chuffing towards us. The railway had to have its little joke though because there was NOTHING, nada, nicht, zilch on the front, to tell us the destination.
Cunningly [I thought], I told the others that if it was a train back to my place, it would probably be 3 carriages and this one gave every indication that it was 6 – most certainly an intercity.
We gave it a shot and boarded, the doors closed and we sat … and sat … and sat. Nothing was showing on the texty thingy which whizzes across. The tannoy informed us that it was an offence to ride a bicycle on the platform and that we could be prosecuted for it. Also that there was a range of hot and cold food at the shop, which I’ve previously exposed, on this blog, as a wicked lie.
The doors opened again.
A bell went and the doors closed. We sat … and sat … and sat.
Then the train shuffled slowly from the station.
.o0o.
This evening, boarding the return train was pretty straightforward until we reached the junction station. The board was showing trains only back to where I’d just come from, not home. This necessitated a trip to the ticket office, where they cheerfully told me to ignore that but to follow the destination on the front of the train, as it came in.
I laughed at the joke and told them about the midday incidents [mentioned above]. “I know how I can tell it will be our train,” I exclaimed. “It all depends on the number of carriages. Oh, I do love this game.”
The stationmaster glared at me.
Filed under: Leisure, travel & sport
Perhaps the stationmaster requires remedial customer service training. Or he (?) could inform the engineers the trains are lacking updated destinations. But that would require an effort, wouldn’t it?
It’s certainly true that many things go wrong on this line and there’s a sort of “ignore it at all costs” mentality attached to it. Compare that to Arriva who have a developed customer relations network.
And there was me thinking you had the day off…