Why I hate Virgin Rail even more. And Scot Rail. But not chocolate

 CHRISTMAS

December 22^nd  11.30

Usual scrum at Euston as platform is announced at 11.10. That's early.  Of course, with the train oversubscribed and everything in spasm because of flights, motorways and East coast trains, they mount a three man ticket check. Of course. At least it halts the stampede somewhat. I take great pleasure in getting one of them to hold my tea as I fish for my ticket. A young girl ahead of me tows a case the size of steamer cabin trunk. Her first time on a Pendolino or merely in denial?  People still reasonably good humoured as, remarkably, they have been in London over last few days, though  a hard faced blonde cuts across my feet  with her trolley case as she pushes in. She knows but stares straight ahead. Tomorrow I shall be sober but she will have to be like that for the rest of her life. 

 Coach A is like a tomato house. We run greater risk of deydration and heat exhaustion than frostbite.

I have no idea whether we set off on time. The carriage is packed. Lots of people without reservations. Strangely the seat beside me remains empty till after we leave when a young woman, reasonably elegant sits down reeking of rolly tobacco smoke. The train pulls out of  station then stops. A bad omen? Nah, only joking and we get under way

12.08 Just through the Chilterns we slow and then a halt and my heart sinks, but again it is momentary. Fear the worst today, though. Guard comes on to make an  announcement but the tannoy cuts out every two seconds. We still manage to glean that 1^st Class is de-classified and journey time will be slightly longer because emergency speed restrictions will operate till Crewe. That was not on the website at 10.00 this morning. And it was going so well....

13.20 We draw to a halt in the middle of nowhere....

 We’ve just passed Crewe and  the speed restrictions have been lifted...

 We’re now running 20 minutes late.  Due in Carlisle 15.00. Should just make the DMF connection...

The TM comes to relay his fractured message. I ask to have heat turned down. “When I get back to my office”

After half an hour, there’s no improvement. I find TM at Shop cadging a tea. He says he couldn’t do anything because his computer screen’s ‘frozen.’ I tell him it’s uncomfortably hot.

“I know but there’s nothing I can do about it...”

To The Shop:

What have you got?... Everything working?

Yes! - well, what are you after?

Coffee

Oh, yes, we can do that.

I’ll have a latte, please

Ah- no. We can’t do lattes... Can we? No.  Well, we could but it would come out just like water.

That’s why I asked you see?

We can make’em but, you know, they’d just come out like water and you’d only bring it back.

Right. So that’s a ‘no’ then really.

We can make you a coffee and add hot milk if you like.

Let’s do that.

It’s with the snow and everything. There’s people from the East Coast who shouldn’t even be on this train!

A man comes up to the counter:

 “Have you got anything to eat?’

 There’s a tub of chicken pate, if you want....

“We are now coming into Preston, just over 20 minutes late...”

Preston 14.17.  Still standing at platform after about 10 minutes

Dep. Preston  14.18 “Aproximately 39 minutes behind schedule.” Now due in at  Dumfries 15.25

I ask the new TM how we lost 20 minutes at Preston:

Well, you were ten minutes early.

(What?) But the guard said we were twenty minutes behind. How could we be...?

Well, the screen at the station had you down as twenty minutes late but you were actually running half an hour late. Then as things went on, you lost ten minutes, you know.....

As things went on?

 

NO, I DON’T FUCKING KNOW- THAT’S WHY I AM ASKING
A silent Munch scream forms in my lizard brain... but I am pleasant...

Anyway. My connection at 15.12 is out of the question, now. The next train out to DMF is at 16.17, arriving at 16.54. I call the cab  and he can still meet me so at least that will not be a problem....

“The delayed 14.08” is running 46 minutes behind time leaving Oxenholm.  As things have gone on...

We arrive in Carlisle at 15.30, 43 minutes behind. Everything seems delayed coming north or south. After a cup of tea and some lunch, at about 1600 I go to get on the DMF train which is at the platform. At 1610 or so, the TM comes down the carriage  to announce the train has been cancelled... As it’s a shuttle, this means the next train will be cancelled as well- although that would have been the 19.30 or so, a mere three  hours. The electrics have failed entirely   She doesn’t know what is going to happen  but she reccommends  if she were us she would  try to get a bus.... Everyone mills about too stunned to be angry. I say was this a maintenance issue?  She shrugs and says "It's just the cold weather."

Bullshit. It's not even cold at the minute, though it soon will be. This is just an old, clapped out train, like the one I rode to Glasgow last week. It might even be that same old rattle trap. In fact, of course it is!

A Virgin staffer emerges from the shadows. He looks like he has been in the bar most of the day. I ask who we go to. he says there is no-one. There is no Scotrail representative at Carlisle. Just the train crew. Everyone just gives up and files out to the forecourt and up to Botchergate. Great spirit of co-operation and humour from this trainful of exile Scots. Fortunately there is a bus to DMF within a quarter of an hour or so. The temperature is plunging. The bus is a little late but it is almost empty. Slowly all the waifs and strays file on board and eventuallywith my bus onward  to CD becoming less and likely, ( I have cancelled my cab) we head out through Carlisle's rush-hour, invisible  because of condensation-misted windows. Two hours later- and 2 hrs 40 minutes later than planned, after the longest conversation about chocolate I ever expect to have, I arrive in DMF. I can't feel my legs and I can't stop thinking about milk and chocolate digestive biscuits.