UK public transport is a joke. A sad excuse for a joke.
I live in Bristol, but work in Bath. Bath is about 10 miles away, a nice little 10 minute train journey away. Bristol Temple Meads is probably the largest, busiest train hub in the west of England. I have approximately 3 miles from my house to the station. This morning, my aim was to get to work a tad earlier so that Sarah and I would have time to go for a run before heading out for a birthday meal tonight. I step out at 8, missing my preferred bus number 73 by a whisker, but getting on the 75 that arrived just after. This means I have to change in town, but no biggie. However, as we get into town we have caught up with the 73, and as I step off I can simply step on the 73 I missed. Great! At this rate I'll easily make the 8.45 train, possibly even an earlier one. The 73 sets off, but halts again after about three stops, and the driver leaves. Evidently the end of his shift. Kind of interesting time to do a driver swap, slap bang in the middle of rush hour on a bus bound for the station, but hey. We wait. No new driver. After 15 minutes a manager bod from the bus company steps on, asking if anyone's seen a driver. He tries to phone his boss, but gets no response. In the end, he has to call for a replacement bus complete with driver, and we swap buses. Ok, so I'm now looking at the 9am Paddington train. Not too bad - this is my normal train - but that's the end of my plans of getting to work early. Two stops later the fattest, most obese, tramp-like person steps on, and I can feel the fumes of bodily odours and last night's White Lighting on his breath the moment he enters. Please, please, please sit somewhere else, I plead silently to myself. He resolutely plonks himself next to me. He takes up two thirds of the seat I'm on, and that's still with one arse cheek hanging over the edge. The stench makes my tears water, and I disappear further into my audio book.
When we finally arrive at the station, it's 9.02 and the London train has left. I leg it to try to catch the Portsmouth train due at 9.04 and it just pulls in as I battle the stream of people coming the wrong way down the stairs and get on. Not too bad, still. When I look up after a bit my watch says 9.09 and the display outside says that the train is delayed. Strange. I step off and asks a member of staff what's going on.
"We have no driver"
Genius. No driver. I guess the train just rolled in on its own? I've lost my patience now, and stomp off in a huff. Next viable train leaves from platform 1 (other side of the station) at 9.22, and I trek over there. Delayed, expected 9.28. Fecking feck. Ok, what's next - the 9.30 Paddington service, at platform 13. Ho hum, back the other way.
So, I finally made it into work at 9.46, having travelled less than 15 miles in nearly two hours.
The public transport system is badly broken.
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3 comments:
Couldn't agree more.
Mind you if you think that is bad, you should try using Arriva Trains Wales Valley Lines.
Not having cottoned to electronic ticketing at stations yet, you are forced to queue up at the exit gate and pay for your tickets from a grumpy man at a desk and a suitcase of change.
Quite often trains are late in the morning because a train driver is late getting out of bed, and this has the side effect of ruining the whole morning service.
The bottom line is never rely on public transport to get you anywhere on time :(
Anyone who works for any British train company should go and use the train service in Switzerland.
It's clean, there's not smelly people and most importantly, it's on time.
Bryan: sadly, getting people out of their cars in this country is going to be a struggle.
Andy: too right. Or France. Or Spain. Or Sweden. Or...pretty much any other country in the world.
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