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.