4th April 2005
Hi all,
Some start to my week last week. As if it wasn't bad enough that I was working on the Bank Holiday Monday then the journey home trumped everything. Let me explain.
I left work at 5.30pm, knowing that the trains home would be a bit slower than usual. Not a regular working day, so no express trains. To compensate for this I had parked two stops down the line from Motherwell at Uddingston. Sure fire winner, cut about ten minutes off the journey time. Perfect.
Small problem number one. As I got to the platform at Argyle Street it turned out that the train to Motherwell via Hamilton (avoiding Uddingston) was delayed and only just leaving. No problem, the screens were still showing that the service via Uddingston would be arriving shortly. Only briefly did the screens flash up that there was a problem with the lines in the Uddingston area. I was stranded there.
To kill a bit of time I caught a train going west to Glasgow Central, where there were plenty more staff telling people what was happening. Well, that was the theory. In reality they were milling around with each other, discussing the weekend's football. They were right to talk to each other about that, as their instructions (when they came) proved to be worse than useless. The instruction? Get on a train to Rutherglen, get off there and get a connecting bus to Rutherglen. So I hopped on the 6.10pm and went on the ten minute journey to Rutherglen.
Small problem number two. I got off at Rutherglen, went through the ticket office and out to the car park. One coach, no driver, no other passengers. The staff at Rutherglen told us we should actually get a coach from Motherwell. Bit late now given that the train I had just been on was now long gone! The screens in the ticket office were saying that there would be a train to Uddingston shortly. I wasn't optimistic.
As it turned out I had to wait a full half-an-hour for the next service to Motherwell via Hamilton. In case you're wondering there is a reason I try to avoid this service like the plague. It is always slow, always seems to be late and is an incredibly dull journey. This feeling is worse when the clock is ticking towards seven o'clock and you're getting hungry, rueing the fact that the evening in which you were going to get so much done is slowly slipping away from you.
After an age we finally arrived at Motherwell, when I was greeted by another unpleasant site. Inside the doors of Motherwell railway station was a huge crowd of people, most of them looking for a connection to their express train in Carlisle. Ouch. At least I could have got a taxi had I not been completely stubbornly determined to get to my car without paying anything more than necessary.
Eventually I managed to find someone who knew what was going on (easier said than done) and apparently the next bus would be going to Bellshill and Uddingston at 7.45pm. I had about half-an-hour to wait, so I thought I'd get dinner. Seemed like a good time to check out that chippy that always smells wonderful when I walk past it. Only it was shut. My only alternative was McDonalds, and I wasn't that desperate. Cold, frustrated, tired and fed-up, but not desperate.
At this point you would have thought I'd have welcomed a call from my wife. Unfortunately Lorraine got to hear what I was going through. "You're not home yet?" Understatement. Instead I was stuck in Motherwell, losing feeling in my toes and noticing every flaw in the planning of various rail companies. Don't they have contingency plans?
Finally I got on a coach to Uddingston. Nothing like a speedy coach, getting me to my car after 8pm. Forget about going home and putting the oven on, it wouldn't be worth it. Instead I headed to Subway for an overdue dinner. Practically blue with the cold (not helped by me switching to a summer jacket optimistically early) I asked for a six-inch roasted chicken breast sub. "Do you want the chicken heated?" I was asked. I bit my tongue and answered politely, as it wouldn't have been fair for the Subway staff member to have taken the brunt of my frustration. Unlike the staff on the railways at least he was asking questions and giving out the right information. And the sub was worth it. Mmmm, chicken sub with honey and mustard sauce, mmmm...
So in summary the lessons learnt were:
1) Don't rely on the railways.
2) Don't rely on the railways.
3) Don't rely on the railways.
(And don't offer to work on Bank Holidays either.)
Have a good week!
Tony
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