In order to have the mixer tap in the flat kitchen replaced with one that doesn’t leak, I had to go into town today in order to meet Collin the Plumber tomorrow morning. At first I figured I’d go to an exhibition in order to not waste the day, however, the weather was so beautiful and the puppies so beseeching that I decided to walk them instead and go up later.
This turned out to be the wrong decision.
Of course the park wasn’t wrong as far as the girls were concerned. There was a lot of running around, making new friends (Freya) and telling greyhounds off (Emma). All in all, it was lovely and peaceful and full of Spring.
By 3pm, I was ready to leave so, wheelie bag in tow, I headed for the station.
When the 3:28 London train arrived it was already a bit late. By the time we left the station, it was even later. And so it progressed through the Surrey countryside, stopping at each station on the way for far longer than is normally required.
The guard told us that the problem was to do with a fatality at Woking and trespassing on the line near Farnborough. There was also another problem on the Portsmouth line.
By the time we reached Woking we were half an hour late along with the change-over guard who was on an inbound train himself. Eventually he arrived, changed over and we started off very, very slowly.
This new guard decided to fill us in with information because he figured we had nothing better to do than listen to his very loud voice. Even the adventures of Richard Sharpe struggled to combat the intrusiveness of the guard’s volume.
He told us (many times) that we were in a queue which would continue to crawl along into London. He even told us how many trains were ahead of us and what this might or might not have to do with us. He did update us on the fatality saying it was someone ‘under a train’ but had no other information.
And so, now an hour later than advertised, my train finally arrived at Waterloo just as people were trying to escape the City. Consequently, an ocean of outbound passengers stood between me and the Jubilee line. Head down and wheelie bag rumbling behind me, I ploughed ahead with little concern over bumps, pushes and grumbled complaints.
And the Jubilee line wasn’t much better as far as sheer volume was concerned. It seemed like every time I wanted to go somewhere it was against the general run of commuters. This is generally good, but one annoying thing about Waterloo is how many times people coming in one direction cross over the people coming in the other. It means getting to know strangers in a way that is normally unwelcome.
I overheard a couple behind me saying how rude people were. One chap, the couple said, angrily shouted that they should just move out of his way. I wish he’d been in front of me because I would really have enjoyed treading on his shoes.
Eventually I made it, relatively unscathed, onto the platform to take me to Canary Wharf. The first train to arrive was jam packed, the jam making it very difficult to get on, so I let it leave without me. The next train however managed to vomit enough passengers for me to take their places.
I was offered a seat by one person but waved her away. There’s little point in me sitting down given the train would invariably fill up at London Bridge and I’d have a very difficult time leaving the train at my stop. I gave her a very grateful smile anyway. One generous soul in a carriage full of able bodied people.
Besides, had I sat down, I wouldn’t have had the opportunity to enjoy a laugh with three Spanish people. One guy had braces and he was trying to indicate that a bit of metal was hanging off and irritating the inside of his mouth. He took a friend’s finger and poked it into his mouth. She pulled it back with a cry of surprise and pain. This made the other two (and me) laugh in astonishment.
It was then all about dentistry which made the trip go remarkably quicker. Fortunately their English was much better than my Spanish so I could join in with the general denture related humour.
Arriving at Canary Wharf I managed to escape the clutches of the crowded Tube train and headed up and through the shops towards the flat.
By the time I reached the flat, almost four hours had passed. This is twice as long as it normally takes me. I sat on the lounge and had the beer that sat waiting for me in the fridge following my forgetting it on Monday last week. It was very welcome.
Meanwhile Mirinda was feeling the other end of the train turmoil. She’d had a meeting with a Minister this afternoon and was returning home. She arrived at Waterloo to crowds and delayed trains. Rather than stand around being jostled, she went to Carluccio’s for dinner.
Eventually she managed to get home without any untoward delay on the actual journey and was welcomed home by two delirious dogs.
It’s been a while for me to have this sort of train mayhem and I can’t say I’ve missed it.
Well my train was 25 min late starting. We sat for ages waiting for the driver to arrive. But I had a seat and it ran ok once it started. Utter chaos!