As you may recall, I had a lovely £50 voucher from my last disastrous long distance train journey. As I could only redeem it in a station, I checked the prices on Monday morning using thetrainline (£150), then popped over to the station on Tuesday to purchase the tickets.
Guess what? They’d gone up by £50 overnight.
The rail cuts are going ahead. I think it’s a great idea – those trains are so spacious during rush hour, I never know what to do with all that leg room.
Local councillor Godfried Gyechie reckons we should go and grumble at the managers on 12 November at Cannon Street. I’m not so sure that it will make any difference. The train companies are only doing what they can get away with, based on legislation drawn up by government. If they could stick us all into a single cattle truck, I’m sure they would. So his other suggestion of emailing the transport minister is a much better one – or you could tweet him.
Tin of Sardines by House of Sims
I got on the train yesterday at Blackheath. It was packed. I stuffed my bag under a chair to get it out of the way. More people got on, so I moved down. Then a seat next to me became free, so I sat down. The train was still packed to the end of the journey. When I looked for my bag, it was gone. And it had my passport in it. The passport that I need in order to get married next week. Oh god.
So, I spent a miserable morning talking to the Met Police, the Transport Police (who are completely separate), SouthEastern Trains, SouthWest Trains (who also do not talk to each other), and the passport office.
Amazingly, out of all these institutions, by far the most effective and helpful was the passport office. I now have a new passport, and every time I look at that terrified, miserable passport photo, I will be reminded that, yes, I am an idiot, and that, yes, I really should listen to Mrs Bugle when she says hold on to your bag on the train.
And to the lost property man at Waterloo station- a bag that has been thrown away by a thief doesn’t have any uniquely identifiable DNA that proves which Train Operating Company was being used when it was stolen. If I’ve had a bag pinched at Waterloo East, perhaps you should at least pretend to give a damn when I tell you about it at Waterloo Main Station?