Problems getting out of bed today after beer & curry with 4 fine friends won the day last evening. The chance to re-live the days when real men had girls' haircuts, footballers' shorts really were short & the railways were still the government's train set was too much to resist. The only thing we had to worry about then was whether they'd get us to the game on time.
After a hearty breakfast of water and nurofen I was ready for anything, but the travelling was easy in both directions.
During the day I caught up with the goings on at the St P Meet the Managers session. Glad to see a healthy turnout making their views known to the FCC managers in our polite Home Counties way. Especially glad to see the magnificent Crapmaster given the coverage he so richly deserves.
Thursday 28 January 2010
Thursday 28th January, 2010
On time this morning, back on the good old 8.16. I'm reminded of the interior design shortcomings as I head for an empty window & middle seat. Schoolboy error. I’m forced into the window seat as a fellow traveller wedges himself into the middle. The heater is on full blast, and the nice, but unyielding, lady opposite has her leg room thank you very much and isn’t about to give me any of it. Her feet may as well have been set in concrete. I kick her (gently) as I try to twist myself into a position that won’t cause a crippling injury, but this lady’s not for budging.
Ideally I would be able to compact myself like one of those nice folding bicycles we sometimes encounter (the Raleigh Tw*t) with a few of the same sharp, unforgiving edges, but unfortunately I can’t. The remainder of the journey is a test of strength for my straining cruciate ligaments, and of absorbency for my shirt. I stagger exhausted onto the Farringdon platform, grateful for the blast of cold air, and head for the comfort of the Met line.
I have a dilemma this evening. I'm meeting some old mates for beer & curry, but its also the FCC Meet the Managers forum at St P. Do I go to St P, and then retrace my steps to our meeting point, thereby eating into beer time? Or do I take the view that Meeting the Managers (again) is likely to increase, rather than alleviate, my frustrations? Think I know which way this is heading.
Ideally I would be able to compact myself like one of those nice folding bicycles we sometimes encounter (the Raleigh Tw*t) with a few of the same sharp, unforgiving edges, but unfortunately I can’t. The remainder of the journey is a test of strength for my straining cruciate ligaments, and of absorbency for my shirt. I stagger exhausted onto the Farringdon platform, grateful for the blast of cold air, and head for the comfort of the Met line.
I have a dilemma this evening. I'm meeting some old mates for beer & curry, but its also the FCC Meet the Managers forum at St P. Do I go to St P, and then retrace my steps to our meeting point, thereby eating into beer time? Or do I take the view that Meeting the Managers (again) is likely to increase, rather than alleviate, my frustrations? Think I know which way this is heading.
Wednesday 27th January, 2010
I now know there are at least 2 and a half of those nice new trains. I know this because of this morning’s experience. I was late, having had to do a school run, and just missed a London bound train. There were no more trains for the next 15 minutes (in line with the timetable), after which we were promised a slow train at 8.58 (platform 1), and a fast train at 9.03 (platform 3).
In my brave new spirit of trust and adventure the 9.03 was the only option, so I skipped over to platform 3 to wait.
Just as an aside, on the platform were 2 FCC operatives warming their hands on a walkie talkie and looking worried. The reason for their concern became clear as one roared into the walkie talkie:
‘Ere, Tarquin. About this terminator that’s coming into platform 2. Your announcement said it’s long, but Henrietta here reckons it’s definitely a short one. Please confirm, urgent, over’ (I’ve changed the names, not to protect the innocent, but because I’ve forgotten them).
On the basis that I can see no reason why anyone should give a flying toss whether a train ending its journey is short or long (except, maybe, the people getting off) I am, at this point, slightly anxious that we’re about to have a visit from a futuristic killing machine. However I am quickly reassured.
‘Roger that, Godfrey. I can confirm that it is a long train, 8 carriages, over and out.’
Well thank goodness we sorted that out.
After the morning’s entertainment I waited, and as I did I saw 2 of the shiny new trains travel through, northbound. I then watched that 8.58 depart from platform 1, more or less on schedule.
The 9.03 was slightly delayed, and a healthy crowd had gathered by the time it arrived. Could be a problem getting a seat, better sharpen my elbows. Our spirits were lifted as another nice shiny new train poked its head around the bend, but were quickly dashed when its tail emerged rather more quickly than we anticipated. IT'S HALF A ******* NEW TRAIN, ALREADY FULL TO ******* BURSTING!! No chance of getting on, a mumbled apology about a lack of rolling stock, and a trudge back to platform 1 for the next slow train.
Our friends at FCC may be attempting to run a normal timetable, but they are not attempting to do it with normal length trains. That's called cheating (or clever management around the boardroom table). Seems that they are now short of rolling stock as well as drivers. Trouble is, you can't ask the rolling stock to do overtime.
Why is there never a killing machine around when you need one?
In my brave new spirit of trust and adventure the 9.03 was the only option, so I skipped over to platform 3 to wait.
Just as an aside, on the platform were 2 FCC operatives warming their hands on a walkie talkie and looking worried. The reason for their concern became clear as one roared into the walkie talkie:
‘Ere, Tarquin. About this terminator that’s coming into platform 2. Your announcement said it’s long, but Henrietta here reckons it’s definitely a short one. Please confirm, urgent, over’ (I’ve changed the names, not to protect the innocent, but because I’ve forgotten them).
On the basis that I can see no reason why anyone should give a flying toss whether a train ending its journey is short or long (except, maybe, the people getting off) I am, at this point, slightly anxious that we’re about to have a visit from a futuristic killing machine. However I am quickly reassured.
‘Roger that, Godfrey. I can confirm that it is a long train, 8 carriages, over and out.’
Well thank goodness we sorted that out.
After the morning’s entertainment I waited, and as I did I saw 2 of the shiny new trains travel through, northbound. I then watched that 8.58 depart from platform 1, more or less on schedule.
The 9.03 was slightly delayed, and a healthy crowd had gathered by the time it arrived. Could be a problem getting a seat, better sharpen my elbows. Our spirits were lifted as another nice shiny new train poked its head around the bend, but were quickly dashed when its tail emerged rather more quickly than we anticipated. IT'S HALF A ******* NEW TRAIN, ALREADY FULL TO ******* BURSTING!! No chance of getting on, a mumbled apology about a lack of rolling stock, and a trudge back to platform 1 for the next slow train.
Our friends at FCC may be attempting to run a normal timetable, but they are not attempting to do it with normal length trains. That's called cheating (or clever management around the boardroom table). Seems that they are now short of rolling stock as well as drivers. Trouble is, you can't ask the rolling stock to do overtime.
Why is there never a killing machine around when you need one?
Tuesday 26th January, 2010
No problems today. Caught a nice early train this morning, and the nice new train this evening. Seats on both. Hard to say from just one journey, but I have a slight concern that the seats on the new train might have been designed to encourage standing. Further trials are required.
Monday 25 January 2010
Monday 25th January, 2010
Enjoyed a pleasant, seated journey to work this morning. Minor delays on our way into St Pancras, but nothing too bad. On the whole a good start to the week. It's 'Meet the Managers' at St P on Thursday, so FCC are on their very best behaviour.
On to this evening. I'm waiting at Farringdon for the 17.57. There's a whispering noise, something glides into the platform and stops in front of us. What is it? It can't be a train. It's all lovely, smooth and shiny, purple and pink. It's quiet, like it rides on a carpet of air. It's bright and clean inside. It's like I've been transported into an episode of the Jetsons. The people inside are all smiling and happy (now stop it, you've gone too far).
I pinch myself. No I'm not asleep. The doors slide gently open (remember cassette players? It's like comparing the eject mechanisms on the cheap, crappy machines to the lovely, damped, mechanisms on the posh expensive ones). I step inside onto the thick shagpile. A steward takes my coat and shows me to my seat. Actually, it's still got a plastic floor, and there's no seats, but it is clean, climate controlled, and it doesn't smell bad.
FCC have really messed up big time today. How could this have happened? I've seen these new trains (or should that be this new train) before. I've even travelled on one once, into London, in the middle of the day (and the doors didn't open at St Pancras - a deign fault apparently). But in rush hour I've only ever seen them travelling in the other direction. I have sometimes wondered whether all of FCC's 'scheduling problems' have been caused by a desire not to allow their nice new train(s) to be soiled by too many grubby commuters. But not this week, not 'Meet the Managers' week. Coincidence?
On to this evening. I'm waiting at Farringdon for the 17.57. There's a whispering noise, something glides into the platform and stops in front of us. What is it? It can't be a train. It's all lovely, smooth and shiny, purple and pink. It's quiet, like it rides on a carpet of air. It's bright and clean inside. It's like I've been transported into an episode of the Jetsons. The people inside are all smiling and happy (now stop it, you've gone too far).
I pinch myself. No I'm not asleep. The doors slide gently open (remember cassette players? It's like comparing the eject mechanisms on the cheap, crappy machines to the lovely, damped, mechanisms on the posh expensive ones). I step inside onto the thick shagpile. A steward takes my coat and shows me to my seat. Actually, it's still got a plastic floor, and there's no seats, but it is clean, climate controlled, and it doesn't smell bad.
FCC have really messed up big time today. How could this have happened? I've seen these new trains (or should that be this new train) before. I've even travelled on one once, into London, in the middle of the day (and the doors didn't open at St Pancras - a deign fault apparently). But in rush hour I've only ever seen them travelling in the other direction. I have sometimes wondered whether all of FCC's 'scheduling problems' have been caused by a desire not to allow their nice new train(s) to be soiled by too many grubby commuters. But not this week, not 'Meet the Managers' week. Coincidence?
Friday 22 January 2010
Friday 22nd January, 2010
Good news and bad news this morning.
Good news: the first train on the departure board is the 08.10 to Bedford, which is expected on time.
Bad news: (i) I’m not going to Bedford, (ii) it is now 8.16, and (iii) every other train on the board is delayed.
Normal service has most definitely been resumed. It’s anyone’s guess what train is coming next. A closer inspection of the board shows not only that all of the southbound trains delayed, but also that many of them are expected to arrive at the same time. Should be interesting.
FCC make no attempt to provide an excuse for this morning’s chaos, although there is a hint of severe drizzle in the air so perhaps they think it should be self evident.
At least there are trains running. I jump on the first one through and treat myself to a seat in the first class section.
Still, you couldn’t wish for a better day for FCC to comprehensively screw up following Lord A’s threat that they had until the end of this week to shape up or face the full force of his wrath. Wonder what that will amount to.
Good news: the first train on the departure board is the 08.10 to Bedford, which is expected on time.
Bad news: (i) I’m not going to Bedford, (ii) it is now 8.16, and (iii) every other train on the board is delayed.
Normal service has most definitely been resumed. It’s anyone’s guess what train is coming next. A closer inspection of the board shows not only that all of the southbound trains delayed, but also that many of them are expected to arrive at the same time. Should be interesting.
FCC make no attempt to provide an excuse for this morning’s chaos, although there is a hint of severe drizzle in the air so perhaps they think it should be self evident.
At least there are trains running. I jump on the first one through and treat myself to a seat in the first class section.
Still, you couldn’t wish for a better day for FCC to comprehensively screw up following Lord A’s threat that they had until the end of this week to shape up or face the full force of his wrath. Wonder what that will amount to.
Thursday 21 January 2010
Thursday 21st January, 2010
It is bin collection day on the last part of my route to the station, and the wheelie bins (surrounded by small mountain ranges of extra sacks due to recent missed collections) stand proudly on the pavement outside their owners’ houses. All except for one house. Why? Terrible schoolboy error? Eco over-friendly? Given up and visited the local tip? Assumed the service has been withdrawn?
Turns out to be none of the above. On closer inspection it transpires that there is, in fact, a bin on the pavement, in front of the hedge, but said bin has been cleverly camouflaged by a sort of plastic sheath decorated to resemble the hedge, a sort of wheelie bin condom if you like. Magnificent! Are they commercially available? I must investigate. I suppose the only trouble with disguising it as a hedge is that the bin collectors might miss it. I wonder if they do a Tardis version?
I arrive at the station to see a train standing at platform 1. There is a suspicious sort of general milling around and vague indecision that suggests to my, by now finely honed, instincts that this sucker ain’t going anywhere soon. However I am told by the nice man at the barrier that it is in fact the delayed 0806 to Sevenoaks, fast to St Pancras, and that it will leave as soon as the driver gets into his cab. Foolishly I take this to mean that said driver is poised like a coiled spring, just waiting to leap in and press the go button. I hear a whistle and jump on board the train, ignoring the obvious danger signs (lots of empty seats, large crowd on platform 3,...).
Turns out the whistle was for the Northbound train on platform 2, and I watch it pull out. Shortly afterwards, from the comfort of my seat, I also watch the 8.16 fast into London arrive at, and set off from platform 3. Oh dear.
Then comes the announcement: Blah, blah, FCC regret to inform that the 08.06 to Sevenoaks will be delayed by approximately..... and that’s it. We have to guess. Delayed by what? Approximately 15 minutes? Approximately 2 hours? Approximately three cows? Approximately total and utter incompetence? We are left to guess.
Then comes a further announcement. It seems the original driver had been taken ill but not to worry, we’ll be on our way just as soon as the relief driver gets here. He is currently on his way from ... (what’s it to be? Radlett? Birmingham? Sydney?) ... platform 3. Phew.
The announcement continues – ‘this train will be fast to St Pancras, then all stations to Sevenoaks ….. I believe.’ What? You believe? Are you announcing some sort of epiphany, or do you really not know where this train is going (and stopping)?
The driver arrives. Turns out he also believes. We proceed – fast to St Pancras, then to Farringdon. That’ll do me nicely and, at least until the next journey, I also believe.
Turns out to be none of the above. On closer inspection it transpires that there is, in fact, a bin on the pavement, in front of the hedge, but said bin has been cleverly camouflaged by a sort of plastic sheath decorated to resemble the hedge, a sort of wheelie bin condom if you like. Magnificent! Are they commercially available? I must investigate. I suppose the only trouble with disguising it as a hedge is that the bin collectors might miss it. I wonder if they do a Tardis version?
I arrive at the station to see a train standing at platform 1. There is a suspicious sort of general milling around and vague indecision that suggests to my, by now finely honed, instincts that this sucker ain’t going anywhere soon. However I am told by the nice man at the barrier that it is in fact the delayed 0806 to Sevenoaks, fast to St Pancras, and that it will leave as soon as the driver gets into his cab. Foolishly I take this to mean that said driver is poised like a coiled spring, just waiting to leap in and press the go button. I hear a whistle and jump on board the train, ignoring the obvious danger signs (lots of empty seats, large crowd on platform 3,...).
Turns out the whistle was for the Northbound train on platform 2, and I watch it pull out. Shortly afterwards, from the comfort of my seat, I also watch the 8.16 fast into London arrive at, and set off from platform 3. Oh dear.
Then comes the announcement: Blah, blah, FCC regret to inform that the 08.06 to Sevenoaks will be delayed by approximately..... and that’s it. We have to guess. Delayed by what? Approximately 15 minutes? Approximately 2 hours? Approximately three cows? Approximately total and utter incompetence? We are left to guess.
Then comes a further announcement. It seems the original driver had been taken ill but not to worry, we’ll be on our way just as soon as the relief driver gets here. He is currently on his way from ... (what’s it to be? Radlett? Birmingham? Sydney?) ... platform 3. Phew.
The announcement continues – ‘this train will be fast to St Pancras, then all stations to Sevenoaks ….. I believe.’ What? You believe? Are you announcing some sort of epiphany, or do you really not know where this train is going (and stopping)?
The driver arrives. Turns out he also believes. We proceed – fast to St Pancras, then to Farringdon. That’ll do me nicely and, at least until the next journey, I also believe.
Wednesday 20th January, 2010
0816 St Albans to Farringdon. On time, with seat, drama free.
1727 Farringdon to St Albans. 4 minutes late, but this is to my advantage as otherwise I'd have missed it. Also with seat and drama free.
Can’t complain today but I do hope this slight upturn in FCC's performance is not going to result in a general air of acceptance after their recent stinking, rank badness.
Came across this headline from the Watford Observer website. I suppose it is always good to receive positive news about your football team, especially at a time when there is not much of it about. I think that this, however, has a slightly desperate quality:
1727 Farringdon to St Albans. 4 minutes late, but this is to my advantage as otherwise I'd have missed it. Also with seat and drama free.
Can’t complain today but I do hope this slight upturn in FCC's performance is not going to result in a general air of acceptance after their recent stinking, rank badness.
Came across this headline from the Watford Observer website. I suppose it is always good to receive positive news about your football team, especially at a time when there is not much of it about. I think that this, however, has a slightly desperate quality:
Tuesday 19 January 2010
Tuesday 19th January, 2010
Today I aim for the 08.00 fast service, and repeat yesterday's preparations, albeit a little earlier. I decide this must be the time that most people are getting ready for work (in our street at least) as the water pressure in the shower is considerably reduced (does it really work like that?).
I arrive at the station on time, but this time I find that an earlier cancellation has led to a busy platform, and little prospect of me getting on my chosen train. I am therefore presented with the option of the 08.06 stopping service, or the following 08.11 fast, both of which are allegedly on time. My newfound resolve sees me adopt the ultimate high risk approach, and I forego a guaranteed seat on the 08.06 in favour of the promised faster journey time of the 08.11. It works, up to a point. The 08.11 is perfectly on time, but again it is standing room only.
If the power walking is to continue, the strategy may have to be more seat focussed.
I arrive at the station on time, but this time I find that an earlier cancellation has led to a busy platform, and little prospect of me getting on my chosen train. I am therefore presented with the option of the 08.06 stopping service, or the following 08.11 fast, both of which are allegedly on time. My newfound resolve sees me adopt the ultimate high risk approach, and I forego a guaranteed seat on the 08.06 in favour of the promised faster journey time of the 08.11. It works, up to a point. The 08.11 is perfectly on time, but again it is standing room only.
If the power walking is to continue, the strategy may have to be more seat focussed.
Monday 18th January, 2010
Time to come clean. I have to admit that during the recent weather disruptions I have not been quite as sharply focussed on my departure time as had previously been the case. Knowing that what is to follow is likely to resemble a form of torture has had several effects on my preparations: reluctance to take that first step out of bed, lingering in the shower, waiting for the travel reports on the radio, checking the website to see how bad it is going to be, waiting for the sports reports on the radio, and so on. Intentions were good, but the execution poor.
Today, however, is the day for strong will and resolution. If FCC are aiming for a normal service, then so will I. I decide to adopt a high risk strategy, and aim for a specific departure. The first target is the 8.16 fast. Ok, I know, not particularly ambitious, but it’s a start (and, by the way, my ambitions are not high).
I struggle out of bed and prepare myself for action. The key thing to consider is clothing. I decide that conditions will now allow for the arctic wear to be dispensed with, and I dress for speed. I strap on my athletic support, and allow myself only one additional layer (additional, that is, to my shirt and suit). The polar bear skin stays in the cupboard, and my usual winter coat is back in service.
I’m all set for a power walk to the station and I stride purposefully out of the door. Now, when I say power walk you must bear in mind that all things are relative. This is not a bus beating / cyclist startling power walk in the same sense as, say, those regularly undertaken by the current Mrs Wild and her friend Nursey. This is a power walk in the sense that I aim not to be overtaken by the seniors on their morning ramble. Nevertheless, I intend to match my record time of 18 minutes.
As I speed along I narrowly miss stepping into a large pool of fresh vomit, then another, and then at least two more of varying vintages. Actually, when I think about it, I narrowly miss potentially unpleasant encounters with the product of a variety of bodily functions (human or otherwise). I suspect that, had I been inclined to spend a little time poking around in the undergrowth, I might have been able to complete the set. Is there an I-Spy book for items that are the by-product of activities that should really be conducted within the confines of your own home (and even then only in certain rooms)? If so then I suspect St Albans would be a good hunting ground for enthusiasts of that particular genre. It’s revolting.
I arrive at the station, sweating lightly, but exactly on schedule. I bump into a very good friend of mine, and we were delighted to see that the 8.16 was due in on time. And on time it was. Unfortunately, as we got on I was reminded of what had caused me to put pen to paper in the first instance. Overcrowded, no seats, and too hot. Nevertheless we speed into London, and I arrive at Farringdon on time. Progress? Or is it just back to square one?
Arriving at Farringdon for the journey home I have a further reminder of times past as I discover that part of FCC’s effort to run a full timetable involves reverting back to 4 carriage trains. Yes, it helps them to meet their timetable, but it doesn’t help that many people to actually travel on the things. Still, I guess it all makes sense if you are measured only in terms of trains on time, and not in terms of passengers left on platform.
I am persuaded by my friend and colleague to adopt what I had previously considered to be his bizarre practice of going in the wrong direction. We traveled South for one stop to City Thameslink, the benefit of which is a significantly greater chance of a seat on the next Northbound service. Although it felt slightly like cheating, on this occasion it worked, and we were already comfortably seated as we arrived at Farringdon on what was the next train through in any event. We journey home in style. I suspect we will get our comeuppance in due course.
Today, however, is the day for strong will and resolution. If FCC are aiming for a normal service, then so will I. I decide to adopt a high risk strategy, and aim for a specific departure. The first target is the 8.16 fast. Ok, I know, not particularly ambitious, but it’s a start (and, by the way, my ambitions are not high).
I struggle out of bed and prepare myself for action. The key thing to consider is clothing. I decide that conditions will now allow for the arctic wear to be dispensed with, and I dress for speed. I strap on my athletic support, and allow myself only one additional layer (additional, that is, to my shirt and suit). The polar bear skin stays in the cupboard, and my usual winter coat is back in service.
I’m all set for a power walk to the station and I stride purposefully out of the door. Now, when I say power walk you must bear in mind that all things are relative. This is not a bus beating / cyclist startling power walk in the same sense as, say, those regularly undertaken by the current Mrs Wild and her friend Nursey. This is a power walk in the sense that I aim not to be overtaken by the seniors on their morning ramble. Nevertheless, I intend to match my record time of 18 minutes.
As I speed along I narrowly miss stepping into a large pool of fresh vomit, then another, and then at least two more of varying vintages. Actually, when I think about it, I narrowly miss potentially unpleasant encounters with the product of a variety of bodily functions (human or otherwise). I suspect that, had I been inclined to spend a little time poking around in the undergrowth, I might have been able to complete the set. Is there an I-Spy book for items that are the by-product of activities that should really be conducted within the confines of your own home (and even then only in certain rooms)? If so then I suspect St Albans would be a good hunting ground for enthusiasts of that particular genre. It’s revolting.
I arrive at the station, sweating lightly, but exactly on schedule. I bump into a very good friend of mine, and we were delighted to see that the 8.16 was due in on time. And on time it was. Unfortunately, as we got on I was reminded of what had caused me to put pen to paper in the first instance. Overcrowded, no seats, and too hot. Nevertheless we speed into London, and I arrive at Farringdon on time. Progress? Or is it just back to square one?
Arriving at Farringdon for the journey home I have a further reminder of times past as I discover that part of FCC’s effort to run a full timetable involves reverting back to 4 carriage trains. Yes, it helps them to meet their timetable, but it doesn’t help that many people to actually travel on the things. Still, I guess it all makes sense if you are measured only in terms of trains on time, and not in terms of passengers left on platform.
I am persuaded by my friend and colleague to adopt what I had previously considered to be his bizarre practice of going in the wrong direction. We traveled South for one stop to City Thameslink, the benefit of which is a significantly greater chance of a seat on the next Northbound service. Although it felt slightly like cheating, on this occasion it worked, and we were already comfortably seated as we arrived at Farringdon on what was the next train through in any event. We journey home in style. I suspect we will get our comeuppance in due course.
Friday 15 January 2010
Friday 15th January, 2010
For your enjoyment today we have 'A Tale of Two Franchises'. A splendid guest contribution from my good friend, Mr N.E. Worsan-Wild, concerning his journey to a far flung destination earlier this week:
A Tale of Two Franchises
For sale: Train ticket, cheap !
I have an important 10:00 am meeting in Leicester tomorrow and consider taking the train from St.Albans instead of the car - this eco thing is clearly having an impact on my subconscious mind. So, with best intentions for the environment I enquire about the cost of a train ticket from the nice lady at the St.Albans ticket office. I'm guessing it will be £25 or so. Not cheap but eco-friendly never is and for the sake of the planet I'll make the financial and personal sacrifice.
The lady requests I cross her palm with £91.50 for a return ticket. What ! Clearly the bullet proof glass that prevents us from sharing each other's variant of the latest flu virus is affecting the sound as I'm sure she thinks I've asked for some destination in a far off land. I ask her again for a return ticket to Leicester, England - I get the same response. What ! (again) The last time I flew to Edinburgh and back I paid far less than this and I was guaranteed a seat on that trip. The comfort of the car and the cost of 15 litres of diesel is looking far more appealing.
I may however have to go to Leicester again in a couple of days so foolishly ask about the cost of a weekly ticket. I grip the service counter in order to brace myself for the shock...and the cost is....£118.80. Surely some mistake, £23.70 per day for 5 days is almost reasonable. The lady is however adamant it is correct so I quickly snap up the weekly ticket and scuttle off believing that she will eventually realise it is an error and ask me to fork out another few hundred pounds. So, I've got a ticket and I've also got a handy timetable from East Midland Trains (EMT) that shows the trains I can use in order to get from St.Albans to Leicester - it does mean having to use a First Crapital Con (FCC) train to get to either London or Luton but fingers crossed all will be ok.
I aim for the 07:26 FCC train to Luton Airport connecting to the 07:51 to Leicester. I'll have to wait at Luton Airport Parkway for 10 minutes or so but no problem. In typical FCC fashion the 07:26 is delayed by 25 minutes meaning I can't make the 07:51 from Luton Airport to Leicester and the next north bound EMT train from Luton Airport is an hour away. Referring to my handy East Midlands personal timetable I see the next available option is to catch the 07:44 FCC into St.Pancras and get the 08:15 EMT to Leicester. The 07:44 is on time, I get a seat and get to St Pancras on time. At this point I am quite optimistic that this could all work out ok but I have clearly under-estimated the abilities of EMT's management to be as incompetent as those that work for FCC.
When I try to get on the EMT train at St Pancras I am told my ticket is invalid. I will have to buy a ticket to travel back to St Albans before they will let me on. Because of FCC's ever increasing incompetence I've had to take a journey into London that I didn't want to make and to rub salt into the wound EMT want to charge me for the displeasure. In hindsight however I count myself lucky as I now suspect that the FCC Gestapo ('Revenue Protection Team') would also have liked to charge me for the privilege of being diverted to St Pancras in the first place. So maybe I've actually got a bargain!
I am now very irate, miss my intended train, angry at everyone and ten quid out of pocket. After apologising to half the EMT staff at St Pancras who have put up with (and laughed at) my antics I eventually get on to the 08:25 and make it to Leicester just before 10:00am. My next trip to Leicester will be by car. Anybody want to buy a partially used weekly ticket ? Cheap !
In time honoured, Oscars fashion I would like to say a few well-deserved thank yous:
FCC Management for not knowing how to run a train set let alone part of a public transport system.
EMT Management for forcing their staff into ridiculous, indefensible and confrontational positions with the travelling public.
The Conservative government for selling off British Rail to a bunch of property speculators who knew even less about running a train set than FCC do.
The Labour government for perpetuating this de-nationalised, in-effective and costly nonsense.
The Liberal Democrats for keeping quiet about it.
A Tale of Two Franchises
For sale: Train ticket, cheap !
I have an important 10:00 am meeting in Leicester tomorrow and consider taking the train from St.Albans instead of the car - this eco thing is clearly having an impact on my subconscious mind. So, with best intentions for the environment I enquire about the cost of a train ticket from the nice lady at the St.Albans ticket office. I'm guessing it will be £25 or so. Not cheap but eco-friendly never is and for the sake of the planet I'll make the financial and personal sacrifice.
The lady requests I cross her palm with £91.50 for a return ticket. What ! Clearly the bullet proof glass that prevents us from sharing each other's variant of the latest flu virus is affecting the sound as I'm sure she thinks I've asked for some destination in a far off land. I ask her again for a return ticket to Leicester, England - I get the same response. What ! (again) The last time I flew to Edinburgh and back I paid far less than this and I was guaranteed a seat on that trip. The comfort of the car and the cost of 15 litres of diesel is looking far more appealing.
I may however have to go to Leicester again in a couple of days so foolishly ask about the cost of a weekly ticket. I grip the service counter in order to brace myself for the shock...and the cost is....£118.80. Surely some mistake, £23.70 per day for 5 days is almost reasonable. The lady is however adamant it is correct so I quickly snap up the weekly ticket and scuttle off believing that she will eventually realise it is an error and ask me to fork out another few hundred pounds. So, I've got a ticket and I've also got a handy timetable from East Midland Trains (EMT) that shows the trains I can use in order to get from St.Albans to Leicester - it does mean having to use a First Crapital Con (FCC) train to get to either London or Luton but fingers crossed all will be ok.
I aim for the 07:26 FCC train to Luton Airport connecting to the 07:51 to Leicester. I'll have to wait at Luton Airport Parkway for 10 minutes or so but no problem. In typical FCC fashion the 07:26 is delayed by 25 minutes meaning I can't make the 07:51 from Luton Airport to Leicester and the next north bound EMT train from Luton Airport is an hour away. Referring to my handy East Midlands personal timetable I see the next available option is to catch the 07:44 FCC into St.Pancras and get the 08:15 EMT to Leicester. The 07:44 is on time, I get a seat and get to St Pancras on time. At this point I am quite optimistic that this could all work out ok but I have clearly under-estimated the abilities of EMT's management to be as incompetent as those that work for FCC.
When I try to get on the EMT train at St Pancras I am told my ticket is invalid. I will have to buy a ticket to travel back to St Albans before they will let me on. Because of FCC's ever increasing incompetence I've had to take a journey into London that I didn't want to make and to rub salt into the wound EMT want to charge me for the displeasure. In hindsight however I count myself lucky as I now suspect that the FCC Gestapo ('Revenue Protection Team') would also have liked to charge me for the privilege of being diverted to St Pancras in the first place. So maybe I've actually got a bargain!
I am now very irate, miss my intended train, angry at everyone and ten quid out of pocket. After apologising to half the EMT staff at St Pancras who have put up with (and laughed at) my antics I eventually get on to the 08:25 and make it to Leicester just before 10:00am. My next trip to Leicester will be by car. Anybody want to buy a partially used weekly ticket ? Cheap !
In time honoured, Oscars fashion I would like to say a few well-deserved thank yous:
FCC Management for not knowing how to run a train set let alone part of a public transport system.
EMT Management for forcing their staff into ridiculous, indefensible and confrontational positions with the travelling public.
The Conservative government for selling off British Rail to a bunch of property speculators who knew even less about running a train set than FCC do.
The Labour government for perpetuating this de-nationalised, in-effective and costly nonsense.
The Liberal Democrats for keeping quiet about it.
Thursday 14 January 2010
Thursday 14th January, 2010
It’s raining this morning. This has 2 effects on the walk to the station: 1 - I am showered with slush by several passing cars; and 2 – it is incredibly slippery. I arrive at the station wet and exhausted from clambering over the bodies of fallen comrades.
However I am pleased to note that the new improved revised timetable appears to be in operation, albeit every train still seems to be either delayed (or cancelled). My best hope is a semi fast train to Sevenoaks due next on platform one.
I hover near the stairs, fearing a late alteration, but the train arrives at the advertised time, and seating room is available. This presents me with the sort of regular dilemma that I used to face in the good old days when the service was merely crap. I am faced with 2 rows of 3 seats, opposite one another. Both window seats are occupied, one of the aisle seats is occupied. I have a bag, and a dripping wet umbrella. Which seat do I choose?
Factors to consider include:
(1) Seat width. Who have FCC’s train seats been designed for? Supermodels? Stick insects? Certainly not me and I am certain that, in common with most other aspects of my being, my width is no greater than average.
(2) Leg room. Clearly better if there is nobody opposite, although this will inevitably last for only one stop.
(3) Temperature. The heater runs along the side of the carriage. When on it can be unbearably hot, but it is impossible to predict when this will be (there is no clear correlation with the external weather conditions). However this is not a factor on this occasion as the window seats are not available.
(4) Precipitation. If it is raining outside it can also rain inside if you sit in either the window or middle seat and wet bags or umbrellas have been put in the overhead luggage rack.
(5) Ease of entry and exit. Entry and exit from either the central or window seats requires significant co-operation from your fellow passengers (not always forthcoming).
I usually conclude that the best option is an aisle seat on the basis of seat width and ease of exit. Also, following a trick learned from a colleague when boarding an easyjet flight, if both aisle and window seats are occupied, and you studiously avoid eye contact then, rather than aiming for the empty middle seat, passengers boarding later will tend to opt for seats elsewhere that are more easily accessible.
So I settle into the empty aisle seat, stowed my dripping possessions behind the seat, and enjoy a comfortable journey to Radlett. More passengers join and, although I studiously study my book it is no use, there are more passengers than seats, and one chap is clearly aiming to squeeze himself into the middle seat. He is solidly built, most likely a sporting chap, and I can see that I am about to have an uncomfortable problem.
The mechanics work something like this:
(1) a person wider than supermodel inserts themselves into center seat;
(2) the resulting physical forces act simultaneously on the people in the window and aisle seats;
(3) the pelvis of person in window seat is prevented from moving any further by wall of carriage;
(4) therefore the only ‘give’ is the person in the aisle seat, who is forced out into the aisle, the extent of their movement being dictated by the amount by which the width of the new arrival exceeds the width of the seat.
When inserting themselves into the center seat the experienced traveler may also adopt the ‘leading shoulder’ technique, which involves first putting one shoulder into the back of the seat, and then sliding across such that the shoulder of the person in the aisle seat is also forced out, and away from the seat in favour of the new occupant’s shoulder. When the new arrival is of, say, rugby playing size the effect is proportionally increased.
In this case the leading shoulder technique was not used. However a significant portion of my left buttock was still left dangling over the void. At the next stop, Estree & Borehamwood, I noticed a peculiar new physical experience. For some reason at that stop the tracks seem to tilt gently away from the platform. The result is a further force on the occupant of the aisle seat both from the tilt of the train, and the resulting additional force from the person in the center seat. The natural response is to look for something to hang on to but, short of grabbing a stranger’s leg, gripping opportunities are limited. What appears to happen instead is that the left buttock, which (in common with the right buttock) I had previously regarded as largely decorative, becomes a sort of clasping tool, thus exercising a small, but sufficient, amount of grip on the seat cushion. Quite effective it was too, albeit not entirely comfortable, and I was relieved when we pulled out of the station.
The rest of the journey continued in relative comfort. Unfortunately the rest of the journey was only as far as West Hampstead. Incredibly it seems that, in the all pervading cold and damp that seems to have decimated the service in recent weeks, something has remained dry enough to spontaneously combust in Central London with the result that no trains would proceed through London for the second successive day.
Here is an extract from the FCC live updates page on their website for Brighton to Bedford services for your further amusement:
'This train will be terminated at London Bridge. It will call additionally at: London Bridge. It will no longer call at: Preston Park, Hassocks, Burgess Hill, Wivelsfield, Haywards Heath, Three Bridges, Gatwick Airport, East Croydon, London Bridge, London Blackfriars, City Thameslink, Farringdon, St Pancras International, St Albans City, Luton Airport Parkway, Luton, Flitwick and Bedford. This is due to a problem currently under investigation.'
However I am pleased to note that the new improved revised timetable appears to be in operation, albeit every train still seems to be either delayed (or cancelled). My best hope is a semi fast train to Sevenoaks due next on platform one.
I hover near the stairs, fearing a late alteration, but the train arrives at the advertised time, and seating room is available. This presents me with the sort of regular dilemma that I used to face in the good old days when the service was merely crap. I am faced with 2 rows of 3 seats, opposite one another. Both window seats are occupied, one of the aisle seats is occupied. I have a bag, and a dripping wet umbrella. Which seat do I choose?
Factors to consider include:
(1) Seat width. Who have FCC’s train seats been designed for? Supermodels? Stick insects? Certainly not me and I am certain that, in common with most other aspects of my being, my width is no greater than average.
(2) Leg room. Clearly better if there is nobody opposite, although this will inevitably last for only one stop.
(3) Temperature. The heater runs along the side of the carriage. When on it can be unbearably hot, but it is impossible to predict when this will be (there is no clear correlation with the external weather conditions). However this is not a factor on this occasion as the window seats are not available.
(4) Precipitation. If it is raining outside it can also rain inside if you sit in either the window or middle seat and wet bags or umbrellas have been put in the overhead luggage rack.
(5) Ease of entry and exit. Entry and exit from either the central or window seats requires significant co-operation from your fellow passengers (not always forthcoming).
I usually conclude that the best option is an aisle seat on the basis of seat width and ease of exit. Also, following a trick learned from a colleague when boarding an easyjet flight, if both aisle and window seats are occupied, and you studiously avoid eye contact then, rather than aiming for the empty middle seat, passengers boarding later will tend to opt for seats elsewhere that are more easily accessible.
So I settle into the empty aisle seat, stowed my dripping possessions behind the seat, and enjoy a comfortable journey to Radlett. More passengers join and, although I studiously study my book it is no use, there are more passengers than seats, and one chap is clearly aiming to squeeze himself into the middle seat. He is solidly built, most likely a sporting chap, and I can see that I am about to have an uncomfortable problem.
The mechanics work something like this:
(1) a person wider than supermodel inserts themselves into center seat;
(2) the resulting physical forces act simultaneously on the people in the window and aisle seats;
(3) the pelvis of person in window seat is prevented from moving any further by wall of carriage;
(4) therefore the only ‘give’ is the person in the aisle seat, who is forced out into the aisle, the extent of their movement being dictated by the amount by which the width of the new arrival exceeds the width of the seat.
When inserting themselves into the center seat the experienced traveler may also adopt the ‘leading shoulder’ technique, which involves first putting one shoulder into the back of the seat, and then sliding across such that the shoulder of the person in the aisle seat is also forced out, and away from the seat in favour of the new occupant’s shoulder. When the new arrival is of, say, rugby playing size the effect is proportionally increased.
In this case the leading shoulder technique was not used. However a significant portion of my left buttock was still left dangling over the void. At the next stop, Estree & Borehamwood, I noticed a peculiar new physical experience. For some reason at that stop the tracks seem to tilt gently away from the platform. The result is a further force on the occupant of the aisle seat both from the tilt of the train, and the resulting additional force from the person in the center seat. The natural response is to look for something to hang on to but, short of grabbing a stranger’s leg, gripping opportunities are limited. What appears to happen instead is that the left buttock, which (in common with the right buttock) I had previously regarded as largely decorative, becomes a sort of clasping tool, thus exercising a small, but sufficient, amount of grip on the seat cushion. Quite effective it was too, albeit not entirely comfortable, and I was relieved when we pulled out of the station.
The rest of the journey continued in relative comfort. Unfortunately the rest of the journey was only as far as West Hampstead. Incredibly it seems that, in the all pervading cold and damp that seems to have decimated the service in recent weeks, something has remained dry enough to spontaneously combust in Central London with the result that no trains would proceed through London for the second successive day.
Here is an extract from the FCC live updates page on their website for Brighton to Bedford services for your further amusement:
'This train will be terminated at London Bridge. It will call additionally at: London Bridge. It will no longer call at: Preston Park, Hassocks, Burgess Hill, Wivelsfield, Haywards Heath, Three Bridges, Gatwick Airport, East Croydon, London Bridge, London Blackfriars, City Thameslink, Farringdon, St Pancras International, St Albans City, Luton Airport Parkway, Luton, Flitwick and Bedford. This is due to a problem currently under investigation.'
Wednesday 13 January 2010
Wednesday 13th January, 2010
Light snow as I walk to the station - no more than a light drizzle that just happens to be a bit chilly. FCC have promised a return to the new improved revised timetable today, but I arrive at the station to find they have managed to create havoc out of even these 'severe weather conditions' (or do they just provide a convenient ongoing smokescreen?).
The delayed 08.06 to Sevenoaks manages to drag itself from its siding and into the platform at around half past. We make it as far as Kentish Town, where the driver informs us that, due to the severe delay to this service, and the severe weather conditions, the train will terminate. But it's ok, he tells us, there are other trains behind us and he thinks they might be going as far as St Pancras. Great!
What he doesn't tell us, but of course what we all know, is that every following service will already be stuffed fuller than the oven on Christmas Day, will be at least as hot and will smell a lot worse. Realising that there is more chance of FCC showering us with tenners than being able to get even a single additional person on, the entire passenger count makes a dive for the Northern Line for a second helping of commuter horror. Two trains come and go before I am able to board, and the one I am able to get on isn't going where I want to go. Still, I figure it's better to get on and at least head vaguely in the right direction.
Several trains later I emerge, and realise that I forgot to swipe my oyster card when I got on the underground. I only need to say 'First Capi..' to the man at the barrier before he gives me a pitying look and lets me through.
I should have gone home by now, but FCC's website says all Northbound trains are leaving from St Pancras, one every 15 minutes and on balance I prefer to sit here than face the overcrowding and unpleasantness. It's all very depressing. Still, at least travelling with FCC there is little chance of finding a train to throw yourself under.
The delayed 08.06 to Sevenoaks manages to drag itself from its siding and into the platform at around half past. We make it as far as Kentish Town, where the driver informs us that, due to the severe delay to this service, and the severe weather conditions, the train will terminate. But it's ok, he tells us, there are other trains behind us and he thinks they might be going as far as St Pancras. Great!
What he doesn't tell us, but of course what we all know, is that every following service will already be stuffed fuller than the oven on Christmas Day, will be at least as hot and will smell a lot worse. Realising that there is more chance of FCC showering us with tenners than being able to get even a single additional person on, the entire passenger count makes a dive for the Northern Line for a second helping of commuter horror. Two trains come and go before I am able to board, and the one I am able to get on isn't going where I want to go. Still, I figure it's better to get on and at least head vaguely in the right direction.
Several trains later I emerge, and realise that I forgot to swipe my oyster card when I got on the underground. I only need to say 'First Capi..' to the man at the barrier before he gives me a pitying look and lets me through.
I should have gone home by now, but FCC's website says all Northbound trains are leaving from St Pancras, one every 15 minutes and on balance I prefer to sit here than face the overcrowding and unpleasantness. It's all very depressing. Still, at least travelling with FCC there is little chance of finding a train to throw yourself under.
Monday 11 January 2010
Monday 11th January, 2010, evening
With FCC continuing to trumpet their own incompetence on their website throughout the day I weighed up the options for the journey home. Following my largely favourable (albeit post mad morning rush) experience on their Great Eastern route this morning I decided to head back on the same route, from Moorgate to Hatfield, via a change at Finsbury Park, and then travel from Hatfield to St Albans by bus.
The plan was a work of military precision. Catch the 17.25 from Moorgate to arrive at Finsbury Park at 17.37. Hop across the platform for the 17.41 from Finsbury Park, due in to Hatfield at 17.58. Then to bus stop B for the 301 service to St Albans at 18.09.
Feeling rather pleased with myself I arrive at Moorgate to find the 17.25 waiting for me on the platform. Quite crowded, but find a seat towards the front of the train and off we set. Alight at Finsbury Park dead on time, and scuttle to the front of the platform to pick up the 17.41. This arrives a minute late and, oh dear, it is packed. The doors open and, predictably, nobody gets out. Not quite so good then. Clearly the trick with this route is to get on at St Pancras.
A very familiar scenario unfolds. People outside the train shout and bang on the windows asking those inside the train to move down. Those inside the train look away and pretend they haven’t heard. Eventually I squeeze on, and we set off three or four minutes late. It could be tight at Hatfield, especially as I don’t know where the bus stop is, but we should be ok as long as there are no further delays.
I needn’t have worried. We pull into Hatfield at 18.03 and I arrive at the bus stop at 18.06.
Now I’ve never really understood buses. Obviously I understand them in the sense that they are large vehicles designed to transport lots of people on the road. What I mean is that I’ve never really been able to work out which ones go where, the bewildering array of timetables, the confusing layout of big bus stops, how much the fares are, whether you need to stick your arm out to stop them when you want to get on, whether you need to ring the bell to stop them when you want to get off, why the top deck still hits the tree branches even though the buses go along the same route and under the same trees several times every day. I just find them confusing, so I have tended to avoid them since I left full time education.
My how things have changed. Inside the bus shelter is a tv screen showing the list of forthcoming departures, telling me that my bus, the 18.09 is due next, and that my proposed destination is on its route. Perfect. This is going to be a piece of cake.
Except that it isn’t. 18.09 comes, and goes, with no sign of a bus. My bus does, however, disappear from the screen. It turns out that bus stops are less sophisticated than FCC stations, and that the departure boards only show what time the buses are supposed to arrive and depart. They do not (and do not pretend to) tell you what is actually going to happen. The screen informs me that the next bus is due at 18.20, but is not going my way, followed by the 18.24, which is. 18.20, 18.24, and indeed 18.30 all come and go with no sign of any buses at all at my stop. Conversely around 7 buses have passed through going in the opposite direction.
Most of the other occupants of the shelter are clearly seasoned bus travellers and know the drill. They spring up excitedly as every bus pulls in, regardless of direction or what it says on the front. They jump onto it, talk to the driver, and then climb off looking dejected after the driver tells them he is going the wrong way (the wrong way for them, that is).
Most of them eventually slope off into the evening and at 18.32 I decide to cut my losses and do the same. Yes, I’m almost certain that three buses all going my way came around the corner as soon as I had gone, but as (a) our gym is within half an hours walk, (b) Mrs Wild was engaged in her daily gym visit and (c) she would be leaving for home at 7.02pm on the dot I felt that this represented by best chance of getting home.
I’m happy to report that all went to plan from there.
So, it seems that buses are not the answer. However at least I made it home in reasonable time on an evening where it seems FCC have surpassed even themselves on the Thameslink route. I have heard of one fellow traveller who boarded a train scheduled to take him to Harpenden, only to find that it terminated at West Hampstead, and another who was sat in a coffee shop at St Pancras pondering his ever diminishing options for getting home.
Today’s miserable, snivelling excuse for a service provided by FCC really has been a low point even by their truly pathetic standards, and I have just heard that we are in for more of the same tomorrow. What is it going to take?
The plan was a work of military precision. Catch the 17.25 from Moorgate to arrive at Finsbury Park at 17.37. Hop across the platform for the 17.41 from Finsbury Park, due in to Hatfield at 17.58. Then to bus stop B for the 301 service to St Albans at 18.09.
Feeling rather pleased with myself I arrive at Moorgate to find the 17.25 waiting for me on the platform. Quite crowded, but find a seat towards the front of the train and off we set. Alight at Finsbury Park dead on time, and scuttle to the front of the platform to pick up the 17.41. This arrives a minute late and, oh dear, it is packed. The doors open and, predictably, nobody gets out. Not quite so good then. Clearly the trick with this route is to get on at St Pancras.
A very familiar scenario unfolds. People outside the train shout and bang on the windows asking those inside the train to move down. Those inside the train look away and pretend they haven’t heard. Eventually I squeeze on, and we set off three or four minutes late. It could be tight at Hatfield, especially as I don’t know where the bus stop is, but we should be ok as long as there are no further delays.
I needn’t have worried. We pull into Hatfield at 18.03 and I arrive at the bus stop at 18.06.
Now I’ve never really understood buses. Obviously I understand them in the sense that they are large vehicles designed to transport lots of people on the road. What I mean is that I’ve never really been able to work out which ones go where, the bewildering array of timetables, the confusing layout of big bus stops, how much the fares are, whether you need to stick your arm out to stop them when you want to get on, whether you need to ring the bell to stop them when you want to get off, why the top deck still hits the tree branches even though the buses go along the same route and under the same trees several times every day. I just find them confusing, so I have tended to avoid them since I left full time education.
My how things have changed. Inside the bus shelter is a tv screen showing the list of forthcoming departures, telling me that my bus, the 18.09 is due next, and that my proposed destination is on its route. Perfect. This is going to be a piece of cake.
Except that it isn’t. 18.09 comes, and goes, with no sign of a bus. My bus does, however, disappear from the screen. It turns out that bus stops are less sophisticated than FCC stations, and that the departure boards only show what time the buses are supposed to arrive and depart. They do not (and do not pretend to) tell you what is actually going to happen. The screen informs me that the next bus is due at 18.20, but is not going my way, followed by the 18.24, which is. 18.20, 18.24, and indeed 18.30 all come and go with no sign of any buses at all at my stop. Conversely around 7 buses have passed through going in the opposite direction.
Most of the other occupants of the shelter are clearly seasoned bus travellers and know the drill. They spring up excitedly as every bus pulls in, regardless of direction or what it says on the front. They jump onto it, talk to the driver, and then climb off looking dejected after the driver tells them he is going the wrong way (the wrong way for them, that is).
Most of them eventually slope off into the evening and at 18.32 I decide to cut my losses and do the same. Yes, I’m almost certain that three buses all going my way came around the corner as soon as I had gone, but as (a) our gym is within half an hours walk, (b) Mrs Wild was engaged in her daily gym visit and (c) she would be leaving for home at 7.02pm on the dot I felt that this represented by best chance of getting home.
I’m happy to report that all went to plan from there.
So, it seems that buses are not the answer. However at least I made it home in reasonable time on an evening where it seems FCC have surpassed even themselves on the Thameslink route. I have heard of one fellow traveller who boarded a train scheduled to take him to Harpenden, only to find that it terminated at West Hampstead, and another who was sat in a coffee shop at St Pancras pondering his ever diminishing options for getting home.
Today’s miserable, snivelling excuse for a service provided by FCC really has been a low point even by their truly pathetic standards, and I have just heard that we are in for more of the same tomorrow. What is it going to take?
Monday 11th January, 2010, morning
Like most I’ve had enough of the snow now. There’s been a light fall overnight, making the walk to the station more treacherous as it hides the partially thawed grey slush underneath. A weekend’s use has given the previously pristine park a slight yellowish tinge, punctuated by the odd turd courtesy of the less diligent dog owning members of our community.
I arrive at the (deva)station to a scene of general despair. FCC has made the most of the weekend and yesterday’s slight thaw, and has worked tirelessly to fail to find a way to fix the problems and so the emergency timetable is still in operation. This amounts to one train every half an hour with a few random extras. Even by their standards this is a pathetic performance, and a pitiful service to support the volume of commuters using this line. They offer their ‘sincerest apologies’. How much longer before we can reciprocate, and offer them our ‘sincerest condolences’ for the loss of their franchise?
Trains arriving at St Albans are already crowded and I stand no chance of getting on the next one. FCC announce that they have provided a free coach transport to Hatfield Station for anyone who would like to sample the quality of their service on the Great Northern Route. I consider their kind offer for a few seconds and, in the interests of warmth, experimentation, and maybe making it to work before it is time go home, I decide to accept.
I board the coach and settle into a comfortable seat. After around 20 minutes of rush hour traffic we’re almost back at my house. Traffic then improves somewhat and the journey speed increases. As we thunder down the Hatfield Road we pass what I assume is the Oaklands College First XV out training on a snowy pitch. Hard men, these rugby types. After 35 minutes we arrive at Hatfield Station.
There is a train due in 10 minutes which promises to take me fast to Finsbury Park. It arrives on time and I take a seat on a nice new, comparatively clean train. There is plenty of space, adjustable air conditioning vents and the ride is very smooth and quiet. A revelation. Is it always like this I wonder?
I get off at Finsbury Park to find that the next Moorgate service is due in 10 minutes. This is much more like it – a dirty, old, tired and generally crappy train. Crowded (albeit not on the St Albans scale) but certainly bearable for the short journey from here into Moorgate.
The total train journey time was around 40 minutes, roughly the same as the journey from St Albans to Moorgate. Wonder what the parking is like at Hatfield?
I arrive at the (deva)station to a scene of general despair. FCC has made the most of the weekend and yesterday’s slight thaw, and has worked tirelessly to fail to find a way to fix the problems and so the emergency timetable is still in operation. This amounts to one train every half an hour with a few random extras. Even by their standards this is a pathetic performance, and a pitiful service to support the volume of commuters using this line. They offer their ‘sincerest apologies’. How much longer before we can reciprocate, and offer them our ‘sincerest condolences’ for the loss of their franchise?
Trains arriving at St Albans are already crowded and I stand no chance of getting on the next one. FCC announce that they have provided a free coach transport to Hatfield Station for anyone who would like to sample the quality of their service on the Great Northern Route. I consider their kind offer for a few seconds and, in the interests of warmth, experimentation, and maybe making it to work before it is time go home, I decide to accept.
I board the coach and settle into a comfortable seat. After around 20 minutes of rush hour traffic we’re almost back at my house. Traffic then improves somewhat and the journey speed increases. As we thunder down the Hatfield Road we pass what I assume is the Oaklands College First XV out training on a snowy pitch. Hard men, these rugby types. After 35 minutes we arrive at Hatfield Station.
There is a train due in 10 minutes which promises to take me fast to Finsbury Park. It arrives on time and I take a seat on a nice new, comparatively clean train. There is plenty of space, adjustable air conditioning vents and the ride is very smooth and quiet. A revelation. Is it always like this I wonder?
I get off at Finsbury Park to find that the next Moorgate service is due in 10 minutes. This is much more like it – a dirty, old, tired and generally crappy train. Crowded (albeit not on the St Albans scale) but certainly bearable for the short journey from here into Moorgate.
The total train journey time was around 40 minutes, roughly the same as the journey from St Albans to Moorgate. Wonder what the parking is like at Hatfield?
Friday 8 January 2010
Friday 8th January, 2010
Kids' school is open again this morning, so I do the honourable thing and drive them there before making for the station. God how I miss driving to work. Heater that you work yourself, radio, wide seat, no forced bodily contact and, above all, that feeling of being in CONTROL (either of the car, or, when you hit the ice, your sphincter muscles if you are lucky).
Check the FCC website before heading to the station. Emergency snow timetable, with one train only every half hour. Am informed by very good friend, follower and fellow traveller that the station is packed, and trains arriving at the station are already full. Decide to press on. Arrive at the station just after a London bound departure to find the crowds have thinned, and I get on the next train without difficulty.
I'm pleased to have missed the morning's chaos, but I don't understand FCC's plans for the day at all. The timetable suggests half hourly trains all day, until around 9pm when it will all stop. Surely if they can run trains, they can run trains, and the timetable should gradually return to what they laughably call 'normal' once the trains all get to the right place? By simply running trains every half an hour are they not just perpetuating the problem of all the trains being in the wrong place?
Check the FCC website before heading to the station. Emergency snow timetable, with one train only every half hour. Am informed by very good friend, follower and fellow traveller that the station is packed, and trains arriving at the station are already full. Decide to press on. Arrive at the station just after a London bound departure to find the crowds have thinned, and I get on the next train without difficulty.
I'm pleased to have missed the morning's chaos, but I don't understand FCC's plans for the day at all. The timetable suggests half hourly trains all day, until around 9pm when it will all stop. Surely if they can run trains, they can run trains, and the timetable should gradually return to what they laughably call 'normal' once the trains all get to the right place? By simply running trains every half an hour are they not just perpetuating the problem of all the trains being in the wrong place?
Thursday 7th January, 2010
Spoke too soon.
As I walk to the station through Wednesday's thick snow my suspicions are slightly aroused as there seem to be more people than usual walking the other way. Nobody says anything. Perhaps they are just out enjoying a nice walk before it all turns grey?
Arrive to find chaos at the station. Major power supply problems caused by the weather conditions. No trains travelling North or South except one Northbound train due to arrive in the next 20 minutes, which will then go on to Bedford, turn around, and return to London calling at all stations en route.
How can this be possible. Presumably either there is power or there isn't. I seem to recall from my Hornby days that when you unplug the train set it all stopped. I don't remember one train being able to escape. Maybe it's more complicated that that? Perhaps FCC still has some steam driven rolling stock.
I debate with myself whether to stick around for 20 minutes to witness the Flying Scotsman passing through, and then wait a further 2 hours for it to return to transport me to London. It's fair to say that it's not a long debate, and I head for home.
On the way I mention the lack of trains to people heading towards me. The reaction is mixed. Some offer a resigned shrug, others a 'tut' or two, most are pretty cheery about it and one fellow shouted with delight and performed a double axel followed by a triple toe loop (I know this because I am forced to watch T***ers on Ice or whatever it is called).
All, however, seem at least grateful to have someone tell them what was going on and save them walking all the way to the station.
As I walk to the station through Wednesday's thick snow my suspicions are slightly aroused as there seem to be more people than usual walking the other way. Nobody says anything. Perhaps they are just out enjoying a nice walk before it all turns grey?
Arrive to find chaos at the station. Major power supply problems caused by the weather conditions. No trains travelling North or South except one Northbound train due to arrive in the next 20 minutes, which will then go on to Bedford, turn around, and return to London calling at all stations en route.
How can this be possible. Presumably either there is power or there isn't. I seem to recall from my Hornby days that when you unplug the train set it all stopped. I don't remember one train being able to escape. Maybe it's more complicated that that? Perhaps FCC still has some steam driven rolling stock.
I debate with myself whether to stick around for 20 minutes to witness the Flying Scotsman passing through, and then wait a further 2 hours for it to return to transport me to London. It's fair to say that it's not a long debate, and I head for home.
On the way I mention the lack of trains to people heading towards me. The reaction is mixed. Some offer a resigned shrug, others a 'tut' or two, most are pretty cheery about it and one fellow shouted with delight and performed a double axel followed by a triple toe loop (I know this because I am forced to watch T***ers on Ice or whatever it is called).
All, however, seem at least grateful to have someone tell them what was going on and save them walking all the way to the station.
Thursday 7 January 2010
Wednesday 6th January, 2010
A reasonable covering of snow this morning so expect the worst. Arrive at station. Departure board shows a mass of delays, but a fast train due imminently. I step onto the platform, straight onto the train, get a seat and into Farringdon without delay.
Snow continues throughout the day so head for home early. Step onto platform at Farringdon, straight onto a fast train and back to St Albans at speed.
No complaints from me today. The two days of heavy snowfall so far this winter seem to have provided me with the two best days of recent travel. Is it just luck, or is there something to be said for this snow stuff?
Snow continues throughout the day so head for home early. Step onto platform at Farringdon, straight onto a fast train and back to St Albans at speed.
No complaints from me today. The two days of heavy snowfall so far this winter seem to have provided me with the two best days of recent travel. Is it just luck, or is there something to be said for this snow stuff?
Tuesday 5 January 2010
Tuesday 5th January, 2010
Snorbans Shuffle, round 2:
Arrive at station at 8.25 (a bit better – but hey, it’s a gradual process) to find that the 08.27 fast service had been cancelled. Something about lack of available train crew.
Instead, the departure board promises the semi fast 08.34 from platform 1, the slow 08.42 from platform 1 and the fast 08.43 from platform 3, all of which were due on time.
The popular choice seems to be platform 1 for the semi fast. I follow their lead and wait.
FCC blinks first. At 08.34 precisely we are informed that the previously on time 08.34 will now be delayed by 13 minutes!! How did that happen? Has it stopped just around the bend before the station? I look to the North - did I catch a glimpse of its laughing little yellow face peeking around the bend before darting back out of sight?
There is a mass ‘harrumph’ and exodus for platform 3.
This time I decide to call FCC’s bluff and wait on platform 1. The 08.42 trundles out of the siding and into the platform. I settle into a comfortable First Class seat and wait for the breakfast trolley ...
Arrive at station at 8.25 (a bit better – but hey, it’s a gradual process) to find that the 08.27 fast service had been cancelled. Something about lack of available train crew.
Instead, the departure board promises the semi fast 08.34 from platform 1, the slow 08.42 from platform 1 and the fast 08.43 from platform 3, all of which were due on time.
The popular choice seems to be platform 1 for the semi fast. I follow their lead and wait.
FCC blinks first. At 08.34 precisely we are informed that the previously on time 08.34 will now be delayed by 13 minutes!! How did that happen? Has it stopped just around the bend before the station? I look to the North - did I catch a glimpse of its laughing little yellow face peeking around the bend before darting back out of sight?
There is a mass ‘harrumph’ and exodus for platform 3.
This time I decide to call FCC’s bluff and wait on platform 1. The 08.42 trundles out of the siding and into the platform. I settle into a comfortable First Class seat and wait for the breakfast trolley ...
Monday 4 January 2010
Monday 4th January, 2010
Winter hibernation over, I head to the station to reap the benefit of FCC's New Year’s resolutions.
Arrived at 8.43 (I know, I know, but you’ve got to ease your way back gently) to find an updated new improved revised timetable in operation. Or ‘inoperation’ as described on the departure board – finger trouble? I wonder. This promised no London bound train for the next 15 minutes, followed by a flurry of activity with 3 london bound trains in the course of 10 minutes. A slow 08.48 from Platform 1, fast 09.05 from platform 3 and a delayed fast 09.02 due at 09.07 also on platform 3. Ideally set for a quick round of the ‘Snorbans Shuffle’.
Opening move: I played safe and made for platform 1 in plenty of time to catch the slow train. 08.56. No sign of a train, but the board still promises an on time departure. 08.57. A northbound train terminates at platform 2. I smell a rat. Could this be the 08.58? How will the driver get it into the siding, get to the other end of the train, drive it to platform 1, open and close the doors and depart by 08.58? Is it a bluff? Who will crack first?
FCC makes its move. The departure board changes. The 08.58 will now depart at 09.03, the train at platform 2 pulls off and into the siding. I make my second move, heading for the stairs at a brisk walk and over to platform 3 to catch the fast 09.05. Arrive on the platform at 09.00 to find that FCC has made its second move. The delayed 09.02 has mysteriously overtaken the 09.05 and is due next, at 09.04.
The silence is broken by the pounding of footsteps as the driver of the train now in the siding sprints from one end of the train to the other. The train moves into platform 1. Tension rises.
09.02. FCC plays its Joker. The tannoy crackles into life and announces that the train approaching platform 3 is the delayed 09.02, and will consist of … 4 carriages.
Almost too late I realise that FCC have spent their Christmas mischievously decoupling the 8 carriage trains. The platform’s too busy, I’ll never get on. I sprint back to the stairs and there’s panic. I fight against the tide of people running down to get on the 09.02. Some continue. Others turn back, sensing the panic, and run for platform 1.
I arrive back on platform 1 just in time to board the delayed 8.58. The doors close and we pull out. Is that the sound of laughter I hear over the tannoy? What fun.
The journey continues without incident, and with no sign of a 4 carriage rain thundering past …
Arrived at 8.43 (I know, I know, but you’ve got to ease your way back gently) to find an updated new improved revised timetable in operation. Or ‘inoperation’ as described on the departure board – finger trouble? I wonder. This promised no London bound train for the next 15 minutes, followed by a flurry of activity with 3 london bound trains in the course of 10 minutes. A slow 08.48 from Platform 1, fast 09.05 from platform 3 and a delayed fast 09.02 due at 09.07 also on platform 3. Ideally set for a quick round of the ‘Snorbans Shuffle’.
Opening move: I played safe and made for platform 1 in plenty of time to catch the slow train. 08.56. No sign of a train, but the board still promises an on time departure. 08.57. A northbound train terminates at platform 2. I smell a rat. Could this be the 08.58? How will the driver get it into the siding, get to the other end of the train, drive it to platform 1, open and close the doors and depart by 08.58? Is it a bluff? Who will crack first?
FCC makes its move. The departure board changes. The 08.58 will now depart at 09.03, the train at platform 2 pulls off and into the siding. I make my second move, heading for the stairs at a brisk walk and over to platform 3 to catch the fast 09.05. Arrive on the platform at 09.00 to find that FCC has made its second move. The delayed 09.02 has mysteriously overtaken the 09.05 and is due next, at 09.04.
The silence is broken by the pounding of footsteps as the driver of the train now in the siding sprints from one end of the train to the other. The train moves into platform 1. Tension rises.
09.02. FCC plays its Joker. The tannoy crackles into life and announces that the train approaching platform 3 is the delayed 09.02, and will consist of … 4 carriages.
Almost too late I realise that FCC have spent their Christmas mischievously decoupling the 8 carriage trains. The platform’s too busy, I’ll never get on. I sprint back to the stairs and there’s panic. I fight against the tide of people running down to get on the 09.02. Some continue. Others turn back, sensing the panic, and run for platform 1.
I arrive back on platform 1 just in time to board the delayed 8.58. The doors close and we pull out. Is that the sound of laughter I hear over the tannoy? What fun.
The journey continues without incident, and with no sign of a 4 carriage rain thundering past …
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