The nightmare journey home...
Jul. 15th, 2003 09:06 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
slycatMy eventful trip home started with a bit of good fortune as after work, I got to the station at 5.30 to find that the 5.15 was running late and just arrived. This was good fortune cos it meant I didnt have to wait around at the station. however, I should have read this as a sign for things to come. When I got to Waterloo, more good luck as the 5.45 to Southampton was delayed and had just arrived. I dashed off to get it and to my suprise, was able to get a seat.
Train set off only 5 mins late meaning I was due to get home a good 25min earlier than normal. I was already melting in the heat as there was obviously something wrong with the air conditioning. I wasn't going to let it worry me as I had got a seat and was having a natter with a random man who had bene commuting for 17+ years (fuck that for a living!). However beyond Clapham Junction, the train starts slowing to a crawl. By the time we get to Wimbledon, the train came to a complete stop. After a few minutes of not knowing what was going on, we heard on the PA that the train was to terminate there, all change.
So all 500ish passengers of the train unload on to the tiny platform at Wimbledon, no-one has a clue what to do or where to go. Some make calls on their mobiles, others persued train staff while everyone else just milled about hoping to hear something announced. It's unbearably hot on the overcrowded platform with nothing to do, myself half wondering if it would be best to get another train back to London and get another service. Finally an announcement comes that we are to get the next fast service to Woking due in shortly where we are to change again to resume our service home.
The slam-door Woking service arrives and everyone bundles on. I manage to get in the area which is usually where bikes are transported, get out my book and stand for the duration of the journey to Woking. It's not too long to wait but it was again very hot with all the people crammed in like a sardine can. At Woking, again everyone unloads onto the small platform. Nothing is announced so most people milled around again waiting for an announcement. I look up at the departures board to see if our service is on there but nothing is obvious. That is until I notice the Portsmouth service which goes via Winchester on the other platform. However the slam-door train was already there and waiting at the platform.
It seems that I wasn't the first to notice this as the stairs up and over the platform were jam packed with people. I wasn't sure if I was going to make it in time but I made my way through the croud and down the other side. I dashed for the first available door and got in and suprisingly got a seat. however, this was because it was a smoking carriage. I didn't care at this stage, as long as I was on the train and had a seat. I wonder what would have happened had I not noticed the service and had just waited on the platform with the majority of the other passengers.
The journey thereon was rather uneventful, there was adequate air flow to cool me down, I got further through my book and disembarked at Eastleigh at about 7.40. I had my lift pick me up from there as it's close enough to where I usually go and finally got home around 8pm.
Whew! What an eventful journey! Not one I would like participate in again. Especially not on the hottest day of the year... It wasn't as bad as it could have been, I mean I could have missed the connection from Woking. At least I'll get the cost of my ticket for today refunded.
Train set off only 5 mins late meaning I was due to get home a good 25min earlier than normal. I was already melting in the heat as there was obviously something wrong with the air conditioning. I wasn't going to let it worry me as I had got a seat and was having a natter with a random man who had bene commuting for 17+ years (fuck that for a living!). However beyond Clapham Junction, the train starts slowing to a crawl. By the time we get to Wimbledon, the train came to a complete stop. After a few minutes of not knowing what was going on, we heard on the PA that the train was to terminate there, all change.
So all 500ish passengers of the train unload on to the tiny platform at Wimbledon, no-one has a clue what to do or where to go. Some make calls on their mobiles, others persued train staff while everyone else just milled about hoping to hear something announced. It's unbearably hot on the overcrowded platform with nothing to do, myself half wondering if it would be best to get another train back to London and get another service. Finally an announcement comes that we are to get the next fast service to Woking due in shortly where we are to change again to resume our service home.
The slam-door Woking service arrives and everyone bundles on. I manage to get in the area which is usually where bikes are transported, get out my book and stand for the duration of the journey to Woking. It's not too long to wait but it was again very hot with all the people crammed in like a sardine can. At Woking, again everyone unloads onto the small platform. Nothing is announced so most people milled around again waiting for an announcement. I look up at the departures board to see if our service is on there but nothing is obvious. That is until I notice the Portsmouth service which goes via Winchester on the other platform. However the slam-door train was already there and waiting at the platform.
It seems that I wasn't the first to notice this as the stairs up and over the platform were jam packed with people. I wasn't sure if I was going to make it in time but I made my way through the croud and down the other side. I dashed for the first available door and got in and suprisingly got a seat. however, this was because it was a smoking carriage. I didn't care at this stage, as long as I was on the train and had a seat. I wonder what would have happened had I not noticed the service and had just waited on the platform with the majority of the other passengers.
The journey thereon was rather uneventful, there was adequate air flow to cool me down, I got further through my book and disembarked at Eastleigh at about 7.40. I had my lift pick me up from there as it's close enough to where I usually go and finally got home around 8pm.
Whew! What an eventful journey! Not one I would like participate in again. Especially not on the hottest day of the year... It wasn't as bad as it could have been, I mean I could have missed the connection from Woking. At least I'll get the cost of my ticket for today refunded.
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no subject
Date: 2003-07-16 03:55 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-07-16 11:56 am (UTC)Sorry, I couldn't resist. (-8
Date: 2003-07-16 04:46 am (UTC)Some people have made the mistake of seeing Shunt's work as a load of rubbish about railway timetables, but clever people like me who talk loudly in restaurants see this as a deliberate ambiguity, a plea for understanding in a mechanised mansion. The points are frozen, the beast is dead. What is the difference? What indeed is the point? The point is frozen, the beast is late out of Paddington. The point is taken. If La Fontaine's elk would spurn Tom Jones the engine must be our head, the dining car our aesophagus, the guards van our left lung, the cattle truck our shins, the first class compartment the piece of skin at the nape of the neck and the level crossing an electric elk called Simon. The clarity is devastating. But where is the ambiguity? Over there in a box. Shunt is saying the 8.15 from Gillingham when in reality he means the 8.13 from Gillingham. The train is the same, only the time is altered. Ecce homo, ergo elk. La Fontaine knew its sister and knew her bloody well. The point is taken, the beast is moulting, the fluff gets up your nose. The illusion is complete; it is reality, the reality is illusion and the ambiguity is the only truth. But is the truth, as Hitchcock observes, in the box? No, there isn't room, the ambiguity has put on weight. The point is taken, the elk is dead, the beast stops at Swindon, Chabrol stops at nothing, I'm having treatment and La Fontaine can get knotted.