The train system in Scotland is not half as bad as what the tram line seems to be, as it is not still being built and creating headaches for just about everyone in the Capital (everyone knows that Edinburgh is the Capital of Scotland, NOT Glasgow). However, there are times when it looks like the tram line is a better bet. Sit back, and let me tell you how...
* * *
Once upon a time, not so very long ago, the Leuchars Airshow took place on the 10th of September 2011, so a little bit under a month in the past at the time of my writing this; let's say three weeks. There was a man who went to that Airshow, because he loved to watch the fighter jets roar past and do irreparable damage to his eardrums. He enjoyed his time at Leuchars, particularly the bit when a very expensive remote control model aircraft broke up in mid-air. He laughed when he saw this, as he knew that someone somewhere had just realised that their beautiful model Vampire had just spontaneously combusted, and that said person probably didn't have insurance. He saw this, and thought it good.
However, when the show was over, he decided to go home, because it is what normal people do on such days, or at least that is what he thought. He thought this, and thought it sensible.
So he walked all the way to the train station, and waited for his train to arrive. In the meantime, he read a book, ate a packet of sweets and laughed as a small child bit its mother's arm. He saw this, and thought it most hilarious.
Eventually, the train arrived, and the man boarded said train. He sat down next to the mother and the small child, who was by now asleep in its mother's lap. He saw this, and thought it fairly common.
The train travelled through the country, through tunnels and over bridges, until eventually it reached a very large train station where a large number of people got off. The man did not get off at this stop. He wished to travel further, so stayed in his seat and frowned at a group of youths who were playing loud music. They noticed him and decided that if they valued their lives then they should turn off the music, and possibly get off at the next stop. The man observed this, and thought that it was satisfactory.
Halfway through its journey to the next stop, a voice started speaking through the announcement system.
"Vee are sorry to announze zat ZcotRail is canzelling this train, az it iz behind zedju-elle. Zis train vill terminate at ze next station. Vee are zorry for any inconvenience cauzed, and hope you have a nize day."
He heard this, and thought it very annoying.
The man narrowed his eyes, readied his things for departure from the train, and stood by the door, ready to leave.
The train arrived, and everyone on it was unceremoniously dumped onto the platform. Most of them gathered their belongings and walked off, travelling towards the bridge to the other side of the station. The man was not among them. He saw them, and thought that he was bloody well going to speak to the train driver about this.
So it was that the train driver found himself faced by several angry people and one fairly calm man, who looked more dangerous than all the others put together.
"Would you mind telling me what the (blank) is going on?" asked the man. The train driver eyed him uneasily as the others fell silent.
"Vell, zir," stuttered the train man, "vee have to canzel zis train becauz it iz late."
"Late by how much?"
"Ten minutz."
There was a groan from the gathered crowd. "Ten minutes is hardly anything!" cried one.
The train driver ignored the person. "I zuj-est zat you all get taxziz home."
The man considered this, and thought that ScotRail was going to be getting a bill for a taxi the next day, with a very long, angry letter of complaint the next day.
It was as he thought this that the train driver snapped. "Ak-ju-all-ee, get back on ze train."
The man raised an eyebrow, but didn't argue. He, along with half a dozen others, got back into the train. The doors closed, and the wheels started to turn again.
The man looked out of the window back at the station, to see a large amount of tired people gawping at the train from the top of the bridge. The man saw this, and felt a twinge of guilt that was drowned by an urge to laugh.
* * *
This is actually a true story. This happened, on a train from Leuchars to I'm-not-inclined-to-tell-you-where. I was on the train on which it happened. In fact, I was the man in the story.I was, quite frankly, appalled when I learnt that the train was being cancelled just because it was ten minutes behind schedule. The other thing that annoyed me was that they could have told us while we were in the previous, much larger station, from where we could have caught a different train heading to the same place. The fact that ScotRail had decided to dump us in what was effectively the middle of nowhere vexed me beyond human understanding. Many that night had to grab a taxi home, and pay for it.
Then the situation became even more confusing. For reasons unknown, the train driver decided to put the train back on the tracks. As it was, most of the people had left by then and were halfway across the bridge as the train left the station. I can only imagine the anger and utter despair felt by some of those people. I am ashamed to say it, but I chuckle at the memory. My heart goes out to those poor souls, it really does, but I can't help but find it funny. Not the fact that they were all left behind, no, that's not funny at all. No sarcasm intended. It's the fact that the ScotRail folks couldn't make up their minds as to what to do when faced with a ten minute delay. Seriously, folks. Ten minutes. It's a pittance, isn't it? So what do they do? Cancel the train and strand a trainload of people.
It was only through stubborness that myself and a handful of people got the train moving again. To celebrate my small victory over the oppressors that are ScotRail, I helped myself to a seat in the first-class cabin and allowed myself a smile that I usually only bring out of its cage when I've made an earth-shattering breakthrough or won a particularly harrowing game of chess.
What happened there is a testament to ScotRail's incapacity to work around minor issues. It makes you wonder though, doesn't it? If they can't work around a slight delay, then what do they do when a train derails?
On a sidenote, I just have to tell you how ironic it was that it was just after almost everybody had left that the train started up again. All the folks who hadn't stayed behind were the meek; those who could accept their predicament and would travel along the path of least resistance. The people who were unwilling to accept their fate stood their ground, and result! We got where we wanted to go much faster than the others.
The meek may inherit the Earth, but the stubborn can get first-class seats for free.
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