Recipe
History
FROM Manchester Piccadilly TO Preston
THANKS TO First North Western
Just missed the 2310 and so had to wait for 0125. Walked around Manchester�s salubrious inner-city in readiness for it and nearly got lost.
Got to station to be told that the train had been replaced by a bus to Manchester Victoria and then a train from there. Waited for bus along with 99 other people (all numbers are approximate). Bus took first 50 to Victoria, then came back for us. But by the time we got there, the train had gone, leaving 50 passengers stranded at the station, with no members of staff anywhere to be seen! What a palaver!
A British Transport policeman by the name of Perrin tried to placate the angry mob.
Then, as if by magic, a group of boys appeared who had hired a minibus to Preston and needed three extra passengers. A well-dressed young couple got in and so did I. The young well-dressed couple sat in the front and did not get on with the group of boys.
In fact, soon the minibus seemed to evolve into a whole new civilisation where the morals and excepted behaviour of normal human society were forgotten. It seemed as though we were in a real-life Lord of the Flies. Five minutes after leaving, we stopped at a petrol station. The young well-dressed couple got out to pay and the boys implored the driver to leave without them.
The fun was over when I got back to the newly-citied town of Preston at around half past three in the morning. And that was that.
July 1 2001
FROM Paris Nord TO London Waterloo
THANKS TO Eurostar
The Wimbledon final had been abandoned due to rain and I get on Eurostar in Paris at 2100 after a lovely sunny day. Night falls. All goes well until it takes twice as long to go through tunnel than it should. Curious.
Then, just before midnight, as we are approaching London, the train stops without warning. We are told that due to a local train breaking down during the day, there is now a queue of Eurostar trains waiting to get into Waterloo.
Two hours later it is our train�s turn to get into station. We move a couple of hundred yards before being told that too many people have poured into Waterloo that, due to safety concerns, we are not allowed off. Oh dear.
Dawn breaks over London. I use conductor�s phone to call the Post Office to say I will not be working that day. (see On Being A Postman). They don�t believe I am stuck on a train outside Waterloo station. Old woman opposite me says this will teach me to go to Paris and enjoy myself with a girl. I chuckle out of politeness.
A professor-looking, German-who-probably-speaks-French-and-English-and-probably-many-other-languages-because-he-is-a-clever-professor-looking gentleman in the next seat does a mixture of a smirk and a scowl. Clever, I think, I�ll have to perfect that one myself.
I make it clear that a postman is not really my career but it falls on deaf ears. We eventually arrive in Waterloo at 0530 and free taxis are laid on to take us all home.
Despite my tiredness I watch the final of Wimbledon and Ivanisivic wins. Hallelujah!
August 20 1996
FROM Istanbul TO Athens
THANKS TO Turkish Railways
There had been a mad scramble in Istanbul in the searing heat to even get a ticket for this train. But a ticket we got and the old locomotive set off at a snail�s pace. (Not really as slow as snail though.)
Beautiful countryside passes outside the window. Man in seat opposite me eats packed lunch of a girl who�s just gone to the toilet. Odd.
Day wears on and the train is running more and more behind schedule. Dusk falls as we arrive in Greek town of Thessalonica where the service changes from Turkish to Greek ownership.
But the Greek service has long gone and there are only two trains a day. We are forced to spend night in railway station - or rather outside it in a sleeping bag by the door with a policeman patrolling by all night. Someone in another sleeping bag plays a guitar.
At 0500 as the sun rises the policeman hits us with a stick to get us up. We get up.
STAY TUNED to this page to find out when I am next stranded on a train. Exciting, isn�t it.
