We have six children, and who is it that always gets into scrapes - Robbie!! I had a lonely, but very busy evening trying to catch up with all the jobs needed before our holiday and I was feeling very tired when Robbie phoned. It was his Corporal Jones voice (don't panic Mr Mainwaring) and if the pitch had got much higher he would have strangled himself. I am not sure if he was more afraid of the situation or the prospect of telling me, probably the latter! He stuttered and stumbled around the subject before admitting that he had 'got lost' in Birmingham New Street Station, found himself on the wrong platform and missed his last train home. Once again I had to make a mercy dash to Rugby to meet him, he got a train to Coventry and a taxi to Rugby! Surprisingly for Robbie he wasn't very talkative on the way home, in fact he was snoring long before we got back to Northampton. It was 1.30am before we got home, he woke up as I reversed onto the drive, thanked me, humped out of the car and trotted into the house, leaving me to take care of myself. By the time I got in he had already made himself a pile of sandwiches and sliced up a mini pork pie. He was having an animated conversation with the cat who had managed to steal a slice of pork pie! I was so tired, that I headed straight to bed leaving Robbie and the cat exchanging insults while enjoying their midnight feast. Next time, I will leave him stranded!
When I woke this morning my mouth felt like sandpaper after yet another night of coughing. I lay there trying to send telepathic messages to Robbie that I needed a cup of tea, but he just carried on snoring. I tried more direct methods and pinched his bum, that was more effective and after several attempts he roused for just long enough to steal the whole duvet. Eventually he woke up but I still had an eternity to wait for my tea. He put his arm around me, cuddled up and embarked on a detailed monologue of the exact journey times for all the replacement buses between Northampton and Euston yesterday – scintillating! Just when I thought my ordeal was coming to an end he decided to name every station between Euston and Birmingham New Street and then he speculated on the meaning of each name! Finally nature succeeded where I had failed, he needed the loo and he plodded off to the bathroom. He returned at last with a cup of tea and when he got back in bed I made sure he kept well away from the subject of trains. He is so exhausting, I may have to send him back to work before New Year in order to get a few hours respite!
Yesterday passed me by in a blur of agony. Clearly I insulted my flu bug by referring to it as 'just a cold' on the blog on Thursday, and it decided to show me exactly who was boss. By Thursday evening everything ached and my thermostat had gone mad, and by Friday morning I was ready to curl up and die. It is now Saturday evening, I am still feeling fragile and breathing is a bit of a challenge, but at least I can face the bright lights of the computer again. So rather than dwell on my aches and pains I will write about something completely different instead.
Last week Robbie took me to Birmingham for the evening. This may not sound very exciting but it is a big event for me because it involves passing through that God forsaken place known as New Street Station – I really hate it and I avoid it at all costs. Our journey started at Northampton Station, it is a while since I have been there and it will be a while before I go there again, the parking charge is a rip off! I hoped it would be a more pleasant experience than when it was in the hands of Silverlink. The best thing about the station was the hot chocolate from the coffee shop. The station staff seemed a little more cheerful and they has swapped the severe 'border guard' look of the Silverlink uniform for the 'slept in look' of what must be the most boring uniform ever. The station itself looks more unloved and shabby than ever, I'm not sure anyone could love a building that looks and feels like a farm shed, but I feel sad that this is the first impression that travellers get of my home town. Oh well, it could be worse, Coventry station takes 'grim' to a whole new level.
The journey to Birmingham was good, we travelled on a 350, it was surprisingly comfortable and it was a pleasant journey. I can't complain, but however perverse it sounds I miss the good old 321's and I miss the Silverlink livery that always reminded me of a Cadburys Dairy Milk wrapper. So there you are you have proof that Robbie is not the only weird one in our family when it comes to trains. All good things come to an end and all too soon I found myself in New Street Station. It didn't seem to have changed, there were the usual announcements about platform alterations and breathless and confused passengers with a demented look in their eyes sprinting from platform to platform in search of their trains. I know they have to announce platform changes, delays and assorted misery, but why do thy choose someone with such a grating voice that it sounds like nails being dragged over a blackboard?
We made our escape from the gloom of the station to the grim reality of the street. I never feel safe in Birmingham and I struggled to keep pace with Robbie, nothing would slow him down because he was heading in the direction of food. He took me to The Big Wok because he was sure I would like it – I didn't really, but to be fair I was probably coming down with the flu by then. Robbie made up for my lack of enthusiasm, in the interests of good taste I will not detail all that he ate but I can't resist mentioning the beef curry. I watched him polish it off incredibly fast, it looked as if he was melting like an ice cube in the sun, but he said he enjoyed it. I am sure that man would eat absolutely anything!
We enjoyed our evening out at the theatre, but afterwards we had to head back to the glories of New Street Station. The 'welcoming committee' defending the ticket barriers looked distinctly unapproachable and uninterested. Their uniform also had that 'slept in look' - obviously London Midland are a bit lacking in the imagination and style department! We had a while to wait for our train but I was happy enough on the platform watching the train dispatcher (he was rather nice) and having a good look at the 323 that was waiting to depart. The London Midland livery was hideous, the world should not have to endure that much green, but as soon as the engine started I cold tell that under all that war paint it was still the loveable, quirky 323. I love the way it sounds like a slot machine when it pulls away, you can hear it best from inside the train, but even from the platform there was no mistaking the sound.
Finally our Pendolino arrived and we were safely settled on board. For the first time that evening I felt safe, I'm not sure what it is about Virgin, but I love travelling on their trains. Unfortunately we had to abandon the Pendolino at Rugby in favour of a smelly old coach. Virgin failed to announce that passengers for Northampton needed to leave the train at Rugby, but at least they had a couple of friendly looking 'care bears' on the platform to point us in the right direction. Rugby Station looks like a bomb site, hopefully it will all come good in the end, but it is hard to imagine it happening in my lifetime! The coach journey was cramped, uncomfortable and scary, the driver threw it around as if his sole intention was to scare us to death. We arrived at Northampton safe but shell shocked, and I can honestly say I have never been so glad to see my car and to feel in control once more.
I think I have mentioned before that Robbie's company is moving to new offices not far from their present building. He has known about the move for months and he has played an active role in the planning and preparation of the new environment. For months he has talked of little else. I know about the proximity of the post office, the kitchen arrangements, the layout of the toilets and the exact distance and route from New Street Station, I could go on, but I'm sure you get the idea.
Now we have moved on to the next phase, Robbie is in nostalgic mode, he keeps telling me how much he is going to miss Meridian. This morning when he got up he announced that it was his last ever Friday in his present building and he sounded so sad. As you would expect he has told me about the arrangements for packing in considerable detail, but I can't help wondering if they have really taken account of the Robbie factor. That man has taken hoarding to a new level, the house is bursting with train books, old timetables, railway maps, magazines, ancient catalogues, mementos from open days etc and assorted train related debris. I am fairly sure that his office will be much the same. I keep asking him to bring his junk home to make the move easier, but it hasn't happened - yet. They have only allowed a day for packing, but in Robbie's case it will probably take a week! I don't think we will ever be able to move house because the removal costs will be more than the price of the house!!
well....what a mad day its been! I was on the 06.35 this morning and although its only 25 minutes earlier, its a DIFFERENT journey in itself as there are a number of people who just find a seat, get comfy and snooze until New Street. The thing I also like about the 06.35 is that it runs fast (not stopping at intermediate stations between Coventry & Birmingham International), which is great in some respects, but not in others not. I love 'people watching', always have really, weird I know, but hey that's just me.....( no sniggering Richard.......)lol... I find fascinating watching people from all walks of life and seeing how they behave. You know, it makes feel quite normal to watch other people..! Anyway I digress, the 06.35 train has no school kids and no bikes either, now that's a REAL joy. I had never really observed bikes on commuter trains before until I relocated to Northampton as its not the sought of thing you see on a Hednesford - Birmingham New Street F&S spinter....lol..They seem to be bike mad down hear.....fold ups, bmx's and even big whopping mountain bikes..oh well I shouldn't moan too much I always normally get a seat! And on that note, I'm off to bed..........
Robbie has been especially helpful and attentive over the last few days. I'm not fooled, I know he is 'ust trying to get his 'pass signed' for next weekend. I have occasionally toyed with the thought of Robbie being a house husband, it sounds like an appealing prospect in the abstract, but the reality would be less pleasing. I had a little glimpse of it this evening when Robbie was loading the washing machine and he proved beyond doubt that he is 'on the spectrum' by being totally obsessive and unreasonable about how the colours are sorted. He survived unharmed, but only because it would be cowardly to 'deck' a man when he is kneeling down! I really couldn't cope with the in depth debate about whether a dark navy towel can go in the dark wash as logic suggests or whether as Robbie believes it should go in with the blues because it is not black. Please, someone take him away and let him play with trains!
Once the 'great colour debate' had been settled Robbie appeared to be doing some complicated mental calculation while assisting me to serve our evening meal. After a while he said to himself "22 minutes, I would only have 22 minutes, it would be tight but I could do it." I had to enquire about his mutterings and he explained that if he goes cranking on Saturday he will only have 22 minutes at New Street and he will have to get to Mc Donalds to redeem his ticket for a free egg and bacon mc muffin and then back in time for his next train. What a high powered life he leads!
What a day! The gale force winds came as predicted and our newly repaired fence went from the vertical to the horizontal. That's what happens when you rely on 'Bob the Builder' to fix the fence! We also lost a few tiles from the roof - and my bank account lost hope. Even if we can claim something on the insurance policy, replacing the fence and repairing the roof will cost a fortune. There was lots of damage in the area near our home too, we have a lovely park not far away and a number of trees have fallen down including a lovely mature tree that has been completely uprooted.
Robbie had to go back to Leeds today so he was up at the crack of dawn to be at the station just after 6am. I wasn't too happy about it because it was already very windy and there were already speed restrictions in place so it didn't seem sensible to go all the way to Leeds and end up stranded. He agreed to leave early in order to get home at a reasonable hour as the speed restrictions would make his journey much slower.
Robbie caught his train to return from Leeds at 2.10pm. It finally arrived in Birmingham 344 minutes late, it had been stopped by obstructions and accidents three times so it had to be taken back to York and eventually managed to get to Birmingham via Doncaster. I am writing this at 10.40pm and he is still on his way home, he is now on a train to Northampton and he hopes to reach the station by 11.30pm. I have been worried about him, but I also feel cross because the entire episode was avoidable. The gales had been predicted for a couple of days, there were already speed restrictions in place and chaos was the inevitable result. Yet he still chose to travel and the train operating companies were still happily selling day return tickets when the odds of arriving at their destination were not good and the chance of getting home again was minimal. Surely we should expect more in the way of joined up thinking from the train operating companies.
Robbie had a bad start this morning, he rang me before 7am to say that he was on a bus to Coventry as the line is blocked. What a joyless experience that will be!! I had the misfortune of travelling by coach to Coventry last year during the 'Terrorise the Traveller' initiative (otherwise known as the summer timetable!). We went on a stinky old bus, packed in next to the weirdest selection of passengers imaginable, with a loud and uncouth driver whose sole ambition was to enter the Guinness Book of Records by provoking motion sickness in every single passenger during a single journey. When we arrived at Coventry we parked in the station car park for 25 minutes before continuing our journey to New Street. It was such a drab and dreary and god forsaken dump that I longed to get away, even the prospect of arriving at New Street was inviting in compression - and I detest New Street! I had always wondered why the people who get off the train at Coventry look so gloomy and depresses, having travelled through that bleak and desolate landscape by coach I can only guess how miserable it must be to live there. I know some people say that parts of it are nice, but I have seen quite enough to make me give Coventry the thumbs down.
Robbie rang again at 8.10am and he was only at Rugby, at that rate he will get to work at about 11am! Oh well, I can look forward to another evening of him muttering darkly about the state of the railways. At least it will make a change from hearing about the failings of FGW, they seem to be rivalling Network Rail on the Burgess hit list recently.
This morning finds me growling with frustration. No, this time it isn't Robbie's fault, it is Network Rail. The early morning news informed me that Network Rail have made a profit for the first time, maybe they have but it wasn't that bit that wound me up, it was the media spin that they put out. It was the claim that 9 out of 10 trains run on time. Don’t they realise that I am lied to by experts on a daily basis; I have a husband and three children! Not to mention years of double speak and deception from this government. I recognise a lie when I meet one. You can make statistics say almost anything. I seem to remember a quotation in my school maths textbook; it said ‘Statistics are like a lamp post to a drunken man, more a means of support than illumination’.
If 9 out of 10 trains run on time, and I have my doubts about that, we need the bigger picture about how that is achieved. What about the two occasions last week when Robbie’s train from Birmingham New Street actually started from Birmingham International? Yes, it may have arrived on time, but the bulk of its passengers were still standing on the platform at New Street. Or the morning last week when Robbie’s train to Birmingham was still waiting at Northampton full of passengers when the next train to Birmingham left. Nobody bothered to tell the passengers! They may be meeting targets by some contorted means, but they are certainly not giving any thought to the passengers. Customer Service – they haven’t got a clue!
Some bigwig from Network Rail was on Radio 4 spouting fourth about using road tolls to get people of the road and on to the trains. What trains? Surely not the trains that are already full and standing? Ones that start from the wrong station perhaps, or the ones that are working to a leaf fall timetable and mess up all the connections, or perhaps it is the trains that have mysteriously morphed into cramped smelly coaches because of engineering possession blocking the line. It is certainly those prohibitively expensive trains that a Machiavellian pricing policy. I can drive my whole family to Cornwall for less than the cost of one adult rail fare, even if I could afford it the railway can’t take me to where I want to go, Dr Beeching made certain of that! I like travelling by train and I would do it more often if some simple problems were remedied. I don’t want to pay a fortune just to stand for the whole journey, I want somewhere to leave my luggage and I don’t want to spend hours marooned at God forsaken stations like Birmingham New Street. Most of all I don’t want to be caught up in the dreaded New Street marathon, when late and badly publicised platform changes leave stressed passengers, weighed down with luggage, rushing up and down stairs to reach their train. Even on a good day a visit to New Street is a joyless experience. It is all well and good for Network Rail to come up with these suggestions, but it is about time that the public were treated to a bit of honesty and a lot more joined up thinking.
Poor old Robbie rang me on his way into work and got a ten minute tirade on the subject of Network Rail. It is one of the few occasions that I have known him to be almost speechless.
We have six children, and who is it that always gets into scrapes - Robbie!! I had a lonely, but very busy evening trying to catch up with all the jobs needed before our holiday and I was feeling very tired when Robbie phoned. It was his Corporal Jones voice (don't panic Mr Mainwaring) and if the pitch had got much higher he would have strangled himself. I am not sure if he was more afraid of the situation or the prospect of telling me, probably the latter! He stuttered and stumbled around the subject before admitting that he had 'got lost' in Birmingham New Street Station, found himself on the wrong platform and missed his last train home. Once again I had to make a mercy dash to Rugby to meet him, he got a train to Coventry and a taxi to Rugby! 
