A Boy Called Sarah?

Robbie has been promising (or threatening) for weeks that he would take me on a charter trip so that I could experience the ‘wonder’ of Sarah Siddons, the oldest electric locomotive still in traffic. Today was ‘the day’ but when I woke up at some ungodly hour, I told Robbie that I would rather stay in bed. He was not a happy chap, he stomped off and came back bearing a cup of tea to find me still half asleep. When bribery didn’t work, he stamped his foot like Rumpelstiltskin. I am not sure if it was a war dance or a rain dance but it got my attention. Somewhat reluctantly I left my lovely warm duvet and prepared to face rush hour on the railway.

We had no problem finding a parking space at Northampton and after a quick visit to what turned out to be by far the best station toilets all day, we were on our way, heading towards Milton Keynes. We changed there for a Southern service to Harrow and Whealdstone, it was an OK sort of journey except for the catastrophe when I visited the toilet. It was compact in the extreme, I put my hands under the hand wash thingy and it dispensed a large dollop of soap onto my hands, then nothing at all, I tried everything but there was no water! I tried to wipe the soap off my hands with toilet paper, but the paper just stuck to my hands. I returned to my seat leaving a trail of soapy finger marks and attempted to clean my hand with hand sanitizer and wet wipes, but the soap made the wet wipes lather and it got worse rather than better. By the time I was able to wash my hands in the shopping centre at Harrow, there were stinging and sore.

When we reached Harrow and Whealdstone we had to get a bus to Harrow on the Hill. We found a bus with a driver who did not speak English, judging by the price he charged us he must have thought we wanted to buy the bus rather than travel the short distance to Harrow on the Hill! I expected Harrow to be rather posh but the places we saw looked a bit grim and ‘unloved’.

We got to Harrow on the Hill Station to find that the ‘the socks and sandals brigade’ were out in force and wearing their ‘winter uniform’ – I have never seen such a display of dodgy footwear in my life! In fact when I saw such a large gathering of the the gathering of the ‘weird and wonderful’ I had an almost irresistible urge to run . They ranged from the quietly confused through various categories of weirdness to the downright odd. Robbie had to hold on to me to stop me making a dash for freedom. Sarah Siddons was late, but eventually it arrived – I refuse to call a loco that turns up late and breaks down a lot ‘she’ when it is so obviously male!

We found some seats in a compartment and soon we were joined by a chap with a big simile and thankfully few words who liked class 37s. I could have cope with him but my ‘weird magnet’ was working overtime and two seriously strange bods from the South West came to sit next to me. They talked incessantly about quail maps and sections of track that they’d ‘had’. They made it sound like notches on their bedposts! It did not surprise me that they both turned out to be single! I did what any sane person does in such circumstances; I closed my eyes and pretended to be asleep.

At Amersham I was entrusted with everyone’s bags, it was like lemming year! There was a mass exodus of men and cameras all hoping to get the perfect shot of Sarah Siddons. As I gazed out of the window at crowds of men milling around carrying cameras with formidable lenses, I couldn’t help wondering if train spotters like trombone players are over compensating for their deficiencies in other areas. After two trips from Harrow on the Hill to Amersham and back I was allowed to escape to the relative sanity of a normal service to Aylesbury. I hadn’t really enjoyed the experience, I was bored and trapped and I couldn’t see what all the fuss was about. Robbie said that perhaps I just don’t like electric locos, perhaps not, to me it just felt unreal and uninteresting, like a theme park ride with added weirdness. I think I prefer proper rail tours with interesting people and (preferably) diesels.

Aylesbury offered the worst station toilets of the day, they seemed fairly new but they were so badly designed that you had to straddle the toilet in order to shut the cubicle door. The tap that claimed to be the cold tap produced such a powerful burst of uncomfortably hot water that it soaked my top! Why is it so had to provide clean adequate toilet facilities? It may not sound important but passengers remember when companies/stations can’t even get the basics right.

We came back via Marylebone on a Chiltern service. That proved to be the greatest disappointment of the day. It was rubbish, the toilets were in a disgraceful state, no toilet paper, filthy seat, overflowing bin, floor flooded and a broken dryer. Also there was no air con and it was so uncomfortable when we were delayed by about an hour that my asthma played up. There was no wifi, some of the sockets were not working, there was a distinct lack of useful announcements, people had to get refunds for their tea and coffee because the milk was off and the train manager failed to apologise for the delay. The seats were very badly designed, impossible to get in and out of and very uncomfortable. I will steer clear of Chiltern from now on.

The best bit of my whole day was the Virgin Pendolino that we caught on the way home, it was absolutely perfect. We had to get the London Midland service from Rugby, but for once London Midland excelled themselves, it was one of the more comfortable ‘blue’ trains, the toilets were working and it was a pleasant trip back to Northampton.

In Disgrace - again!

Photo by Chris McKenna

I know Robbie has been terribly worried about his friend and I have tried to be as supportive as possible, but I was really cross with him on Friday evening. He has a habit of dropping off the radar whenever I wouldn't approve of what he was doing. I had planned our even meal and found myself in suspended animation when Robbie didn't come home and didn't respond to any of my texts. He eventually sent me a text to say that he had gone out for a drink (plural!) with some railway friends. If he had told me I wouldn't have minded, he needed cheering up, but I was less than impressed at being ignored. He finally crept home and sent me a text asking for a lift from the station. To put it kindly he was on the wrong side of sober and he spent the night on the sofa.

He didn't wake up very early in the morning, but I stayed upstairs out of his way listening to the radio and getting on with my writing. Eventually he appeared bearing a cup of tea and an apology and I decided that life was too short to be angry. He cuddled up to me and finally I had his full attention - or so I thought. Suddenly he was totally still and his body went rigid, I thought for a second that he was having a heart attack or something, he seemed to stay like that for ever but it was probably only a minute or so. I was scared, then suddenly he put his head on one side as if listening and then he started muttering to himself. I slowly became aware that he was listening to the radio, it was about train announcements and he was trying to work out if he was listening to the sound of a Voyager or a Pendolino. Needless to say the moment was lost! Sometimes with Robbie I don't know whether to laugh or cry!

Confession Time

Yesterday Robbie rang me at about 8.30am, he usually phones at around that time. He said that he was in London and he wanted to say hello before dashing off to his meeting in Cambridge. I asked him how long his journey to Cambridge would take in total, it was an innocent enough question but t elicited some interesting confessions from Robbie. First came the rather sheepish question "What, including breakfast and meeting friends?" He had been to visit his old friends at Euston, and apparently his three Weetabix wasn't sufficient to sustain him until lunch so he had to have a second breakfast! Then came the confession, he made me get up in the middle of the night and miss the end of my dream because he wanted to go on a Voyager! He could have travelled over an hour later but the lure of the diesel apparently justified the early start! In an attempt to distract me he told me what we could have for breakfast when we go on a Pendolino. That man, if he isn't thinking about trains he is thinking about food!!

Revenge of the Short People

My legs still haven't recovered from the journey on Saturday, it seems that these days we have laws to protect almost everyone from being discriminated about - except short people. I think I will have to start my own campaign against heightism. It is a shame because it spoilt a nice trip, obviously I will have to travel with a foot rest in future - until the short people take over the world! I wonder if they make inflatable foot rests, if not maybe I will have to invent one.

I reminded Robbie that he had promised to take me on a Pendolino and I wanted to plan where we would go, but he seemed quite determined to take me on another HST, I don't think he will give up until I learn to like it! It was nice to go out with him, and I would like to do it more often even if that means enduring an HST. I even said that I would quite like to go on one of his rail tours, but he was very quick to put me off. He explained the logistics and made sure I understood that it just wasn't possible, that's OK, I wouldn't want to come between him and the love of his life - trains!

A Way With Words.

Often when I write the blog I have a moan about the astounding incompetence I encounter in everyday life, but today I am full of praise. I think Virgin Trains could teach us all a thing or two when it comes to communication and media management. At the end of last week I listened to Tony Collins, CEO of Virgin Trains being interviewed on Radio 4. The first thing I noticed was that he had a trustworthy voice – a rarity in the rail industry. What he didn't say was as eloquent as what he said. The interviewer pointed out that the Pendolino had been voted the least liked inter city train by passengers. He focussed on the many benefits the Pendolino offers and refused he to be sidetracked. I don't know who these people are that don't like Pendolino's, I like them very much, and Robbie will rearrange his plans just to travel on a Pendolino. To be honest I prefer them to H.S.T.'s but I know Robbie would argue with me about that. The best thing about the Pendolino is that it is safe, Barry Doe hates them so there is no danger of finding him sitting next to you!!

Anyway back to the Tony Collins interview, the best bit was when he talked about Network Rail, his words were inoffensive and succinct, but we were left in no doubt about the underlying message! Virgin have a way with words, the other day I laughed out loud when I read the Virgin Rail Group response to Network Rail and Office of Rail Regulation comments on West Coast performance. It is not a laughing matter, but it reminded me of my mum. She used to tell me that you have to be careful what you say, but nobody can control what you think. Virgin have turned that into an art, their words are well chosen, but we are left in very little doubt about their thoughts!

Everyone Has Limits!

Robbie had a very bad day on Sunday. We had to get up early to go and get the dog from the kennels and I decided to take the other car, but I asked Robbie to bring both car keys with us. It was a reasonably long drive because the kennels is near Milton Keynes and Robbie talked non stop about trains, including a very odd statement about a Pendolino 'sitting down'. It was lovely to get Meg back, but the journey home was hot and uncomfortable. We arrived home to find ourselves locked out because Laura was out and the other key that I had asked Robbie to bring was locked inside the house! I had to drive all the way to my mum's to get the spare key. In the afternoon he kept me waiting outside Tesco for an hour and a half, he should have only bought a few essential food items, but he 'accidentaly' went shopping for clothes! I was not amused, in fact I was furious. He did say he was sorry, but he didn't seem very sorry and when he moved my cleaning stuff that evening and then mocked me for getting cross, he ended up wearing a cup of tea! I did regret it, it was a waste of good tea, but everyone has limits – even me!

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.

Wrong Time, Wrong Place. 27.01.08

For once we had a Saturday when I didn't have to drag myself out of bed ridiculously early to take someone to work or to catch a train or whatever. I spend a large part of my life driving my family here there and everywhere. For once I enjoyed a lazy start to the day and it was nice to have Robbie at home on a Saturday for a change. As usual it wasn't long before I was treated to one of Robbie's 'wrong time, wrong place' comments. I thought I finally had his undivided attention, but suddenly he informed me that his Hornby Blue Pullman was DCC ready - he had spotted it on top of the wardrobe! The trouble is once he starts on the subject of trains you cant shut him up and he started to ramble on about the relative merits of the Hornby Virgin Pendolino as against the Dapol version. There was only one course of action open to me, I sent him off to make a cup of tea!

The cats don't seem to mind listening to random information about trains, as long as he feeds them, so he stayed downstairs talking to the cats while i enjoyed a few minutes of peace and quiet with Radio 4. A bit later on I was busy with some paperwork and I noticed that Robbie was missing - I always start to worry when he goes quiet! He was having a chat with one of my friends on instant messenger, she wants to borrow him again, that man will do anything for cake!! There was only a brief respite from railway related ramblings, he pestered me all afternoon until I gave in and took him too the model shop to buy the new Hornby catalogue. It cost £8 just for the catalogue, but at least it kept him quiet for a while!

Help 29.03.07

This morning while I was still half asleep I made a seemingly innocent remark, I said that I hated milk floats, because they drive slowly, park inconsiderately, obstruct traffic and they wake me up at a ridiculously hour when they deliver to my neighbour. I observed that country milk deliveries were done in a more suitable vehicle that could drive at a sensible speed and was capable of getting out of my way. Fool! I had unwittingly prompted a monologue on the power supply of the milk float. This lead seamlessly on to power issues with pendolinos, and on to dual power, this in turn lead to a quick detour to French railways and back to the Magic Roundabout. Yes, I did say the Magic Roundabout! You must be wondering how he managed to make that connection - me too! He made a rumbling growling sort of noise that sounded like the agonised moaning from a constipated cow. I said he sounded like Ermintrude, but apparently it was his impression of a class 92 starting up! By this time I was begging for silence, but I still had a lot more 'verbal' to 'enjoy' - it began with the third rail and ranged on and on over miles of track and every conceivable power problem ever encountered on the railways.

Mental Cruelty? 18.02.07

Robbie still manages to surprise me with his random observations. This morning we had a nice unhurried start to the day, but he seemed preoccupied. He was clearly pondering on something confusing and he eventually told me that he was puzzled by something that had happened recently. He had my interest until he went on to explain that he had recently travelled on a pendolino and it still had a version one toilet roll dispenser fitted. He said that he thought they should all have the version 2 dispenser by now because the original version does not dispense the paper evenly. Do you think I could divorce him on grounds of mental cruelty?!

Pendolino to Carlisle

We went on a Pendolino to Carlisle today - just there and back to make sure that it is still in the same place! We went to Milton Keynes to catch the Carlisle service, we go there for the comedy value, they have the campest station announcer ever. He is so entertaining, the children find him absolutely hilarious.

I quite like train travel because it gives me a chance to indulge in one of my favourite pastimes - people watching. While Robbie bought the hot drinks at Northampton the men at the ticket barrier caught my eye. The Silverlink uniform is uninspiring and with their long dark coats and the white bands around their caps, they looked rather like St Johns Ambulance personnel, but the lugubrious faces that this 'cheerful' pair possessed had a hint of the Gestapo about them.

At Milton Keynes the Virgin staff had their long winter coats on as they stood next to the departing trains. They looked very smart and just a little sinister - like German border guards. Virgin obviously try hard to ensure that their staff look smart, but from my observations shoe cleaning is a lost art in urgent need of revival! The employee on our platform was frighteningly young (another sign of my advancing age), in his somewhat large overcoat he reminded me of Paddington Bear, he looked so cute and vulnerable.

Our journey was interesting, I think I prefer Voyagers because they have nicer toilets, but pendolinos are quite nice. Our train manager's announcements were incredible, I didn't understand a word he said, but I have never met anyone who could manage as many words per minute before. May be someone had accidentally set him on fast forward. It is good to see that Virgin are doing their bit for diversity, our train crew was like the league of nations. The chap who served our breakfast was rather cute and he had a gorgeous South African accent. I lost Robbie on the train, he claimed it was an urgent trip to the toilet, but I wasn't born yesterday, we were near Crewe and he was in the vestibule doing a bit of cranking!

The train manager had a sex change at Preston and acquired an impenetrable Scottish accent. After a lot of beautiful countryside and regular time checks from Robbie as he traced the route on his Quail map, we arrived at Carlisle. It is an interesting little place, we had a look around for an hour or two. Unfortunately it seemed to be geriatric day, there were millions of them with their shopping trolleys, plodding around the shops with no sense of urgency whatsoever. We spotted one man wearing a kilt and a deerstalker hat, very scary! I was struck by the diversity of accents and the complete absence of manners - it was almost like being in France! I managed to keep Robbie out of Marks and Spencer's and as a reward I bought him a really nice book about GWR.

We had a pleasant journey back, Robbie started doing the speaking clock thing again, but I managed to distract him by explaining the reproductive arrangements for sheep. We saw a lot of sheep. Considering Robbie grew up in a rural area he doesn't know much. We enjoyed the day and I saw lots of interesting railway stuff, my favourite was a Class 37 DRS Tractor, it has a cute little face. I also saw some freight as it thundered through Milton Keynes, I am quite interested in freight trains.