Sometimes North Lincolnshire feels like it’s a long way from anywhere. Being tucked up in a corner of the UK that nobody passes through, public transport can be a bit of a nightmare…
Take the other week for example. I was travelling to Cardiff for the annual conference of the Association for Heritage Interpretation. I booked well in advance to make sure I got a ‘cheap’ ticket, and it looked so simple on paper. Local train to Nottingham, and then Nottingham to Cardiff. I was surprised (and very pleased) I could get there with only one change, and without having to go through London.
On the day I was travelling I heard that the Nottingham to Cardiff train was cancelled (engineering works). Instead, I would now have to travel from Nottingham to Birmingham New Street, then take a train to Cheltenham, change onto a bus to Bristol Parkway, and then back onto a train to Cardiff. Obviously, this was going to take longer, but at least I could still get there.
TEN MINUTES before I left the house my local train to Nottingham was cancelled. What?! I was informed I could take either the train before or the train after (neither of which was going to Nottingham). I elected to get the slightly earlier train and decided I would speak to the guard once I was on board.
I explained what had happened and he very kindly looked up some new train times for me. He told me to stay on the train as far as Stockport and then I could get a direct train to Cardiff from there. The only fly in the ointment was that as I had booked a ‘cheap’ ticket, it was only valid on CrossCountry trains. I would now be travelling on a Transport for Wales train.
The guard assured me this would be alright as my train was cancelled, and he helpfully printed out my new timetable on green and orange ticket paper.
When I boarded my second train at Stockport the guard came round to check tickets. I explained that I was supposed to be on a different train that had been cancelled. He scanned my ticket and pronounced it invalid – which I had already just told him myself…I informed that the guard on my previous train had assured me this would be OK and I showed him the green and orange paper. He rather grudgingly said he would let it slide ‘this once’! As if I was planning to do this on a regular basis!
Once I got to Cardiff, getting in and out of the city on the local trains was so easy! We can only dream of such brilliant public transport in our rural part of the world…
By the time I returned home three days later, the engineering works had been finished so the journey should have been straightforward. However, CrossCountry in their wisdom had decided that a two-car train would be sufficient for the 3-hour journey to Nottingham on a Friday night. It wasn’t. Many people had to stand for most of the journey, and there wasn’t the slightest chance that the promised refreshments trolley could be deployed!
The final train from Nottingham back home was delayed due to hitting a bicycle on the line (presumably there was no rider involved!), and then a few stations before home the train stopped and was replaced by a bus. Engineering works. Again.
The following week I rang up to claim my ‘delay repay’ money, and after giving the TrainLine rep the whole sorry saga of my journey, the full cost of my ticket was refunded. Every cloud….!
The next train I will be taking is to London to attend the Audio Production Awards, for which I have been a judge. Obviously, it’s in the evening. What might be less obvious is that if I want to get home again that night (I do) rather than spend an extortionate night in London (no thanks), I can’t get a train all the way back after about 8pm.
The alternative is to drive to Newark and take a train from there. I can then stay for most of the awards, scurry back to Kings Cross for the 10pm, and I might make it home by 1am if they haven’t decided to dig all the roads up overnight (which has happened before).
It’s no wonder that 99% of my work is done from my home studio when it’s so blinking difficult (and expensive) to get anywhere. The car is my usual form of transport (local public transport is a bit of a joke), but at least it’s electric now which makes me feel a bit less guilty!
Are you a rural business owner who can sympathise, or are you a city dweller who can get anywhere you like at any time of the day?!