Thursday, January 26, 2012


And once again my Sunday night has been entirely interesting but for a whole different reason! Usually my Sunday consists of waiting. Waiting around for everybody else to return to the flat and jumping like a hyper child when somebody walks through the door. Not today. Today I’m travelling home to Birmingham to see my family and so far my journey has been a riot. For some reason unbeknown to me I booked a train ticket from Newport South Wales to Chester Road with a change at Bristol Parkway in addition to the change at Birmingham New Street. What was I thinking in facing myself with such an arduous task!? I’m not sure either to be honest but it was definitely a different kind of travelling experience.
 The first train pulled up, the train to London Paddington and it was the abnormal old fashioned kind where you have to roll down the windows and open the door from the outside to get out. Getting on wasn’t a problem as the amount of people in the queue to board before me was immense but getting back off the train was a whole new ball game which I’ll get to later. Anyway, so I board the train and make off down the aisle of coach D to find seat twenty five which had been reserved for me. Low and behold my seat is at a table of four. Assuming the empty seat at the table was mine I ask the person in the aisle seat to let me past and I begin to get comfy. She didn’t tell me that somebody was already sitting there and so you can imagine my surprise when an angry Welsh lady returns with a face like thunder. After five minutes of me arguing how I reserved this seat she points out that actually the reserved ticket doesn’t say that I did. I look at the ticket and plain as day it states the seat is number twenty nine. It turns out my seat was actually opposite me but somebody had taken it. I look across to the girl in my seat and she’s sleeping so I have no idea what to do about it. I notice her tickets for travel lying on the table and it turns out she was travelling to Slough. Now I don’t know if you’ve ever seen the British version of road wars on pick TV, but they always seem to be filming crime in that city so the last thing I wanted to do was wake the girl up and ask her to move. Eventually realising the angry Welsh lady is still standing huffing and puffing I apologise and offer to move, but apparently it was too late she found another seat and just wanted her things. That was the last I saw of her on that journey and I was glad about that I can tell you!
Thankfully before many people can glare at me and talk about me it’s time to disembark from the train and change to a second. Imagine my horror when I can’t get off the train. I did what I have seen countless people do before, rolled down the window and leaned out to push the handle down to release the door. It didn’t work. I was stuck. After several failed attempts at opening the tricky door somebody finally gives it a good yank from the outside and my case and I case are free to fall onto the platform like a sack of potatoes.
My ordeal isn’t over yet though as I still need to find the next platform and train. All I have to go on is that my train leaves at 18.40 but I have no idea where it’s headed. By process of elimination I figure I must need the Leeds bound train from platform three which luckily I was already on. I need to find coach G when finally boarding the train and so I head down the platform until it gets to the point that nobody else is around and I think I’ve gone too far. I was very wrong. In fact I hadn’t gone far enough as when the train arrived I still had to walk the length of four full carriages. The tea and chocolate digestives that I paid crazy prices for, however, cheered me up no end.
 Finally, on a successful exit from that train, despite the same tricky doors, it’s time to wait thirteen minutes in the freezing cold for the final leg of the journey.
            Just when I think things couldn’t possibly get any worse, some teenage chav decides I would very much appreciate him sending me rude gestures. I think it’s safe to assume I’m not in the least appreciative of that. After all this I think the promise of a McDonalds from my mother is very much anticipated.
            Is it normal that I’m genuinely excited about getting up at 6.30am tomorrow to go over to my uncles? I need to baby sit before taking my little cousins to ash end house farm with my mother. Looks like I need a good nights sleep…I wonder if I will get one!

No comments:

Post a Comment