Fun'n'Games >> Amusing Anecdotes >> You'd Think I'd Learn (part 2) >> You'd Think I'd Learn (page 2)
You'd Think I'd Learn (page 2)
After approximately half an hour of standing around, some pathetic form of Victorian transport rumbled along. I reluctantly got on it and was most disgruntled to see that there were no seats available. I clung to the luggage rack for dear life, chose to wait rather than try to get to the toilet on the train and, for the first and hopefully last time ever, prayed that I would soon be in Manchester.Once in Manchester Piccadilly station, I rushed off in search of the elusive gents' toilets. Upon arriving there, I found I had to put a (non-refundable) 20p coin in the slot to let me through the turnstile. I had to buy a packet of Wrigley's Spearmint Gum to get hold of a 20p coin, despite the fact that I haven't chewed a piece of gum since I nearly choked on one at the age of 17. Having acquired my gum and used the resulting coin to enable myself to urinate, I attempted to find Platform 14.
Manchester Piccadilly station is set out in a quite peculiar way. The first twelve platforms are very easy to find, as they are aligned in numerical order. However, platforms 13 and 14 are positioned in such a place that it is nigh on impossible to find them without a thorough search.
One thorough search later, I found a sign saying "Platforms 13 and 14 - other side of Travelator" at the end of Platform 10. I travelated along this travelator, which by the way is the most pointless waste of money I have ever encountered (it is effectively an escalator which goes horizontally along, very slowly, instead of up) and then had to walk down a flight of stairs to get to Platform 14. No, I have no idea either why there is a travelator to carry you across a horizontal platform but no escalator to get you down a flight of stairs - ask Manchester Council. I know I will.
At Platform 14, I encountered a conglomeration of bemused would-be-passengers awaiting trains that were due a considerable period of time ago. Ah, I'm not the only one then! The tannoy message came - "We apologise for delays to the TransPennine line, this is due to an external cause beyond our control at Stockport."
By now it was half past three, and I should have been in New Brighton two minutes ago. But I wasn't. I was standing in Manchester waiting for a train - which would not arrive for another half hour. The tannoy messages kept coming - "The 15.37 to Liverpool Lime Street has been delayed by 13 minutes"..."15 minutes"..."26 minutes"... etcetera etcetera. Due to circumstances beyond our control, of course.
I eventually arrived in Liverpool at around 5 o'clock, only to find that I had just missed the train to New Brighton by about 30 seconds. Fifteen minutes later, I boarded the train and decided to write this story. At 5.43 pm I arrived in New Brighton, and 5 minutes later I set foot in the door of Peggy Gadfly's.
A journey of 178.4 miles had just taken me 7 hours and 18 minutes to complete, via the services of no less than six separate trains (not counting the one that tried to take me to Inverness), at an average speed of 24.4 mph. The average 100 metre sprinter travels at just over 20 mph. I would have thought that the advantage of an engine and an electrical current might, in this day and age, have enabled us to travel slightly more than 4.4mph faster than a lone human - but noooo. Not when I'm around.
There is, surely, one lesson to be learned from this tale, and indeed, with hindsight, from the previous one.
Wherever you're going, don't go by train.