Sometimes I marvel at how I manage to get anywhere at all. My friend told me the other day if I didn’t have bad luck with trains I’d have no luck a all… this is why I found myself spending yesterday afternoon huddling under a bridge on a tiny remote platform in Yorkshire.
After a wonderful jaunt up to the beautiful town of Brighouse to celebrate some smashing people and their future plans together what better way to end than to treat yourself to a cheeky first class ticket on a swanky old train (especially when said ticket is £19). I could picture it now my effortless drifting in the the carriage to sip the finest tea in a porcelain cup and wrap my skandi sweater casually round my shoulders to ward off any chilly breeze (as if they would have chilly breeze in fist class!! Pfft).Instead I find myself stumbling down the icy stairs bags flying as the doers on the train slide shut. I leap towards the door but as my finger reaches for the button the train begins to roll away….
This is the first time I have ever missed a train…. there have been some near ones but never before have I had to stand on the platfom – trying not to weep – while the train (and my porcelain cups of tea) chuggs slowly into the distance.
As I stood on the freezing platform, wondering what to do (and fighting the urge to call my mummy) it started to snow.
After half an hour of frantic googling and a quick call to a friend in search of sympathy (he was rubbish!) I jumped on the train to leeds.
£107 later I arrived in Leeds 10 minutes late and with 5 minutes till my next train. This would have been fine if Leeds wasn’t huge, packed and slippery. Soggy floor aside I still managed to hurl myself onto the correct train.
Three hours later, cold, hungry and tired I arrived back in London with half an hour to spare before heading out to a gig.
If you or someone you love is also hated by the British trains I would love to hear from you. Perhaps together we can defeat this evil!