Scary Shoes

Robbie enjoyed his birthday very much, it would have been nice to have him home a bit earlier, but things don't always work out as planned (especially when London Midland are involved!). We had a happy evening together and he was able to tell me all about his day, it seemed to involve a lot food so perhaps it is a good thing that birthdays only happen once a year! He had two breakfasts, a lovely lunch and his favourite meal in the evening, no wonder he was too full to have any birthday cake! So we decided to save the cake until today.

Life with Robbie is never dull, I have learnt to expect the unexpected, but last night I was lost for words. Watching Robbie try on his new Dr Martens was a surreal experience. He was wearing a white T-shirt and his favourite very bright and very baggy M&M design PJ bottoms when he decided to try on his new Dr Martens. The shoes are white with brown trim and in my opinion they are absolutely horrible, but Robbie fell in love with them and because I love him very much I bought them for him as an early birthday present. He sat for a little while just stroking and admiring the shoes, then he decided to try them on.


He deliberated about the colour of the laces for a few minutes, he asked if I thought the white or the brown laces would look best. It really made no difference, the shoes would still look horrible, but I chose brown, so Robbie decided on white. The shoes looked so wrong, the look was not helped by the black socks that he was wearing. Not to mention the M&M PJ bottoms. He walked up and down the lounge, one hand on his hip and asked me what I thought. I am rarely lost for words, but on this occasion I was speechless. What I was actually thinking was that he looked like a cross between Larry Grayson and Phil Mitchell, but perhaps it wasn't the moment to say so!

My heart sank when he announced that he would be wearing his new shoes to work today, I am not sure the railways are ready for a shock like that, but I couldn't change his mind. He is wearing them with jeans and a casual shirt, personally I think they are hideous but I will leave you to decide....... 

Reverse Psychology

Photo by Hyperen

I think there has been a bit too much reverse  psychology going on recently and for once Robbie got the better of me! I suppose I have to let him win once in a while, but he needn't think he is going to make a habit of it.


A week or so ago Robbie announced that he wanted to go to a steam rally on Saturday, he was absolutely determined and he completely ignored my protests. I don't cope well with noise and my asthma has been dreadful recently (oil seed rape season always sets it off) so I really didn't fancy trailing around all day being expected to admire noisy, smelly engines so I came up with a cunning plan. I told him that I would really love to see the sea and I would like to travel along the sea wall at Dawlish again, we haven't done that for ages. Robbie jumped at the chance to play trains all day, so I thought it was a case of mission accomplished. Maybe I was distracted by the referendum and the local government elections, but I didn't spot that Baldrick Burgess was hatching his own cunning plan.


He was late home on Friday (due to computer problems at work) so by the time we talked in detail about our plans for Saturday it was very late and I was tired. I asked what time we needed to get up and he told me some crazy time even before the birds get up! I told him that there was no way that I was getting up at that time on a Saturday, I asked for a train at a more reasonable time but he said there wasn't one. I knew he was being evasive and he was not happy about being questioned because he had the look (you know the one with the lip and folded arms). Eventually I dragged the truth out of him, he wanted to go early because he wanted us to go to Plymouth on an HST rather than a Voyager, but he didn't want to tell me because I prefer Voyagers.


Saturday dawned and I was wide awake, but not too keen to leave my nice warm bed. Robbie was sound asleep and my feeble efforts to wake him failed miserably (as planned) and before long it was too late to get to Birmingham in time for the HST. We got up and got ready at a more leisurely pace, in fact Robbie seemed to be dawdling which seemed a bit odd to me. All went well, we caught the train at Northampton with enough time to buy a coffee and a bacon roll and we had a slow but adequate journey to Birmingham. Robbie raced off to buy some sandwiches and we caught the train without having to do the usual sprint between platforms. It was then that it became clear that I had been double crossed - it was an HST! I know some people like them but I find them uncomfortable, but at least it made Robbie happy. It was an OK journey but unusually for CrossCountry we had very poor service. No one checked our tickets for the whole journey and we had to go from Birmingham until way passed Bristol without a drink. When I finally got a cup of tea it was diabolical, I really don't know why CrossCountry can't make a decent cup of tea. The   RSM looked like a descendent of Fred Flintstone, he lacked any conversation skills, he had no belt, no tie, the wrong shirt and he was in dire need of a shave. However it wasn't a bad journey and the sea wall was as wonderful as ever.


Robbie was a cunning little devil because he had even worked out for us to come back by HST but after negotiations we got off at Totness and caught a Voyager back to Birmingham. It was a really good journey, the two RSMs (they changed during the journey) were fantastic, the tea on a Voyager is moderately better than on an HST (but it still tastes like pond water).  It was a lovely day out and even our journey back to Northampton on London Midland was good, the train manager was very friendly and he had a lovely accent. 

Normal Service Will Be Resumed

It will not surprise those who know me that Robbie and I do not always agree. We are quite capable of arguing about everything from politics to pet care, but when you get beyond the bickering our views are not significantly different. It is just that Robbie is less willing to be outspoken than I am -yes really! I can tolerate people spouting drivel as long as I don't have to listen. I can accept their right to believe passionately in the most ridiculous things, but if they try to impose their batty beliefs on me they will get their answer loud and clear - even the Jehovah's Witnesses have blacklisted our house! The thing that really gets me wound up is when one group gets so forceful about asserting their rights that their actions have a devastating effect on others, including those more vulnerable and less able to assert their 'rights'.


That brings me on to a name which has fast become a swear word among many of it's customers - London Midland. If you type the words 'London Midland chaos' or 'London Midland Disruption', you will find countless examples of delayed or cancelled services and services that terminated before their expected destination. Their name has become synonimous with disruption, chaos and unreliability. The the drivers dispute which has been causing havock for passengers is supposedly at an end. There have been various promises about normal service being resumed from yesterday. It is that little word 'normal' that bothers me because 'normal' for London Midland is not a good customer experience. Yesterday Robbie's journey to work was one of the worst yet. I would be much more reassured if they said that they would be running the full timetabled service, on time and with working toilets. Come to think of it I wouldn't believe them even if they said that!!


Like so many others Robbie has has had a terrible time trying to get to and from work.  Often it took three times as long as it should and it required considerable ingenuity to get there or to get home again. It was exhausting and extremely worrying. I understand that the drivers have issues, of course they want to be paid well for what they do. I am not anti union (but I am deeply unimpressed by the way some unions behave) and I understand that this problem is not all one sided, the company should have sorted this out long ago. In fact the faceless bods at DFT who make totally batty decisions about franchise allocation should have foreseen the problems of harmonising the pay and conditions of workers who joined the new franchise from two different companies. It is simply not good enough to treat passengers so badly.  


Needless to say the chaos has generated a lot of frustration and there has been plenty of heated discussion on facebook. I was pleasantly surprised to find that even some fellow railway employees did not support the recent action. One person wrote (not a direct quote as it was necessary to tone down the language) They need to get their heads banged together. For too long the insulated world of train crew have been taking advantage of at the people who employ them as well the poor passengers stood on platforms waiting for a non-running service. A fortnight working hard in a different job would be enough to make them appreciate just how fortunate they really are.


It seems the drivers have got their deal, but at what cost. What about the people who have had to drive to work or to university because the train service is so unreliable, what about the countless people who lost pay because their train was cancelled or terminated short. Did the drivers give a thought to the people who were terrified of losing their job because they just couldn't get to work on time. I wonder if they cared that the passengers that they messed about so badly will get no meaningful compensation. It is great for the drivers that they have got what they wanted, but at what cost? 

The Peter Principle at Work

Why do I have to spend so much of my life dealing with idiots? This question crops up far too often for my liking and more often than not the answer can be found in the Peter Principle. A sociologist Dr Laurence Johnston Peter explained that organisations become incompetent because individuals often get promoted to one level above their highest competence and stick there being incompetent and micromanaging until either they retire or the company crumbles around them. Dr Peter asserts that the work of an organisation is done by the workers in the company who haven't yet reached their level of incompetence and if there are enough competent employees the organisation still functions despite the incompetent (and sometimes obstructive) managers. If a company forms a culture of mismanagement only the incompetent employees will remain because the competent ones will become exhausted and move on - it is impossible to soar with eagles when surrounded by turkeys!


So who has annoyed me so much that I feel the need to write about the Peter Principle? I have a long list, but don't worry I will only mention one or two. The postman who left a slip without bothering to ring the bell to deliver a parcel, the employee at the sorting office who didn't want to even look for the parcel because I hadn't waited 72 hours - when I insisted he grudgingly admitted that the parcel was there! Then there is London Midland, words fail me, they have turned incompetence into an art form. They have allowed an inherited problem to grow and to bring the company to it's knees and they have shown such lack of consideration for their regular customers that those who can have resorted to travelling by car! 


Some of my family members don't like me to write about them so I will not go into detail, but when I feel that they are being targeted unfairly I become a force to be reckoned with! The teacher who gave my son a detention because his drink spilled in his bag and soaked his exercise book had better watch his back! I went to all the trouble of changing my working hours so that I could pick him up afterwards only to find that the moron had rescinded the detention! I could go on, but all I will say is, I intend to fight against the oppression of small minded jobsworths, if you mess with me I will not be happy but if you mess with the people I love you'd better learn to run!!

On and Off the Rails

Yesterday was such a fantastic day. Robbie had caught me at a weak moment and apparently I had agreed to go to Newquay on the train with him. I like Newquay and I like Voyagers and (most of the time) I like Robbie, but I don't like getting up before the birds on a Saturday morning and all that effort for 20 minutes in Newquay didn't seem like my idea of fun. I mentioned the National Railway Museum to Robbie and before I knew it he'd had the idea to go to York instead of Newquay - it works like magic!

The nice thing about York is that we didn't have to get up quite so early, but it was still a struggle to leave my nice warm bed for a chilly early morning at Northampton Station. The journey to York was nice despite the non existent catering on the CrossCountry service to York. I fell in love with the voice of our train manager, he was a really good train manager too, I could have listened to his voice all day. I enjoyed the journey and before long we arrived at York, the station proved disappointing, very poor customer service and grim toilets. Northampton station may be nothing to boast about but at least we get hot water, soap and working hand dryers in the ladies toilets!

I loved the NRM when I eventually got the chance to see it - it took a huge effort to drag Robbie out of the shop! I headed straight for the Royal trains and I could have stayed there all day because there was so much to see. Robbie enjoyed it too but he wanted to see as much as possible so reluctantly I followed him to one of the other exhibition halls. As we walked in I noticed that the person on duty at the information point was fast asleep, not a good sign! I found it a bit noisy but I really enjoyed looking at everything. It was ideal for me because you were allowed to touch all the exhibits and there was so much beautiful polished wood and lovely shiny metal that I couldn't resist stroking it.

All too soon we were back in the shop on our way out. Robbie was just like a big kid, I bought him a railway book that he simply couldn't live without, as well as a few postcards and a NRM canvas bag. He got so excited about it all and he went out proudly carrying his new bag - I didn't like to point out the likeness to Roy Cropper! We walked into the city to get a late lunch before heading home. I wasn't too keen on York as a place, I don't think I have ever come across a place with so many weird and peculiar people in my life, it was a bit disconcerting.

Our journey home was good in parts, the bit from York to Birmingham was tolerable, the train manager was OK (but not as nice as the one in the morning) but the trolley dolly was totally useless. She was certainly not any one's idea of 'dolly' and she wasn't much good at the trolley bit either. If CrossCountry are paying her to do that job they are being ripped off, maybe she is on some sort of work therapy for the bewildered! I was excited about going on a Virgin Voyager from Birmingham to Rugby, but it wasn't wonderful, I almost got frostbite from the air conditioning and the quiet coach sounded more like the Tower of Babel. For me the last train of the day was also the best, a London Midland green train, Robbie hates them, but it was warm, quiet and comfortable.

We have decided to go back to the NRM very soon!

Inconvenience

Robbie got home from his course last night, he was tired but he said he enjoyed the course. This morning he was keen to get to work, so I hardly had a chance to talk to him before he was gone. I looked forward to his usual phone call when he got tho Birmingham, but when it came he was more like Reginald Perrin than ever. There was no introduction, like hello or how are you he just launched into a frustrated tirade about the failings of London Midland. Apparently there were no working toilets on his train and by the time he got to Birmingham his need was so urgent that he had to sprint to the Gents! It may surprise him, but I really don't need a daily bulletin on the state of the train toilets!

It is Inexcusable!

I detest London Midland, yet again they managed to mess my day up. I am sick and tired of them randomly cancelling trains and not bothering to tell anyone until it is too late. Having had to get up early on Sunday morning to deliver Robbie to the station I was less than enthusiastic about having to do a mercy dash to rescue him from some out of the way place in the evening. Robbie rang me to say that he had noticed that his train from Birmingham (and a number of others) seemed to be listed as cancelled. I told him to come home via Kettering instead, but he refused so I gave him an alternative - sleep outside the office or travel back by East Midland Trains. Still undecided he said he would ring London Midland to see what was happening but that proved a fruitless exercise, they didn't even know what day it was and they couldn't give him any firm information about his train. A clear example of 'the plan is, there is no plan' it is inexcusable. Eventually Robbie saw sense and travelled home via Kettering, annoyingly it cost him extra to do so, but there was no alternative. So I had to trail off to Kettering in the dark to pick him up, why is life with Robbie always so exhausting?

Mr Impossible

During last week Robbie mentioned that he would like to travel on the last HST to Newquay on Saturday and he asked if Sam would like to go with him. Sam had a better offer for Saturday and he wasn't interested in going on a train, but I said that I would think about going with him. On Friday between all my other jobs I went out and bought soft drinks, bread rolls, sandwich fillings and various other packed lunch treats for the train. Oddly when Robbie got home he didn't seem to want me to go with him, he kept reminding me that I don't like HST's and that I would need to take a footstool. In the end I said that if he didn't want me to go I wouldn't go, he then said that he did want me to go, I was totally confused and said I didn't know.

I went to bed at half past midnight and as soon as I got into bed Robbie decided that he had to ransack the bedroom looking for his yellow T-shirt, because (allegedly) he always wears yellow when travelling on an HST – whatever! I got cross and told him to go away, he'd had all evening to sort out his clothes and I was not being unreasonable by wanting to sleep at well past midnight. I don't recall seeing him again, I must have fallen asleep. I went to the bathroom at about 5am and when I got back into bed I prodded him and said that he would soon need to get up. I went back to sleep and when I awoke it was nearly 7am and the room was deserted – he had gone without me!! I was furious, he could have at last woken me and asked if I wanted to go, I was really hurt. He always wakes me up even when he doesn't intend to, so he must have sneaked out really quietly to avoid taking me with him. He didn't wear a yellow top (he thinks I have stolen it), he wore black with luminous green writing instead!

I had plenty to keep me busy all day but I was so angry with Robbie. As always when he is in trouble he stopped answering his phone, so I didn't know what time to expect him back, it must have been after 11pm because I had already gone to bed. He did wake me up when he came to bed but that was much later, I think it was getting towards 4am!
He apologised this morning, but it didn't last long, he had a full scale tantrum because I bought three new knives (to replace some missing ones) without consulting him, and they do not quite match our set. He yelled at me all because of three knives that cost less than £1!

We also had a heated argument about London Midland and their problems. I can't imagine why anyone wants to travel on lurid green trains anyway, but I am fairly sure that the company could have resolved this months ago because the contracts need to be changed to accommodate the needs of the business. It really infuriates me that neither side in the dispute show any regard for the public. The union spokesman needs an urgent course in basic English (not to mention a Gok Wan style makeover!) and the spokesman for the company was totally unintelligible - I found myself wondering if he even knew what a train was! I can understand why they seem unable to negotiate about Sunday working, with both sides in the same room it must be like Bill and Ben meets the Clangers!

So having hardly seen Robbie all weekend he is sitting in the corner playing his music so loudly that I want to go and punch him on the nose. I will resist the temptation. I will go to bed to listen to my radio instead – at least I can get some sensible conversation from Radio 4!

To Birmingham and Back Again

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.