Railway Day Out, Sort Off

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As part of my job search I was forced to journey into the big town today. This entailed finding a suitable train timetable, they all have variations these days and the prices cannot be trusted also, and this morning bright and early, the day not myself, I wandered down to our bit of line. There in the sunshine I joined the late commuters, the London train left an hour ago, and soon climbed aboard the exciting journey that is a trip by rail!  I admit I would prefer a steam engine chuffing along through the countryside but such things are not common today.  Instead we had the usual diesel and while comfortable enough to do the job it neither 'chuffs' nor has the same romance. The 'romance' of the journey began with the train announcement scrolled across the screen above the door informing us where the train had 'arrived at.'  I thought if you have come here pal you have certainly not 'arrived!' Still it could be worse I suppose, it could say 'Arrived at Scunthorpe,' and we wouldn't want that would we? 


People on trains are the main problem with public transport.  If I could share the coach with nice people instead of ones I disliked life would be easier.  Having traveled on the commuter train on occasion I suspect many there feel the same.  These trains have been fitted with windows that open and one chap came in, took of his jacket, it was indeed a warm day, and opened the window above him and sat down.  How I hate this!  He opens the window for air, yet the air has no effect on him!  Instead it blows over to the other side of the coach freezing the people over there.  The only answer, apart from shooting him New York Police style, is to open the window above you and hope he gets chilblains!  I noticed all the windows were shut today in spite of the warmth and stuffiness around.  Maybe a cop had got on earlier as the train made its way out here?  


A substantial lass also joined us.  She immediately got the mobile phone out!  Now while mobile phones are indeed one of the many blessings we take for granted they are not an advantage on quiet railway coaches!  On this occasion the lady made a quick call, now that is a miracle, and replaced the villain in the bottom of her bag.  Quite why women do this I know not, but when it rings she then spend several minutes hunting for the brute while it plays 'Land of my fathers' in an annoying digital manner!  Some women use the mobile in the manner that once cigarettes were made use off, as some sort of protection while in public.  It is as if being occupied this way there is a barrier between them and the dangers around them.  Many pass my door pushing a pram with one hand, a toddler several feet behind them, on a  main road, while they blether into their phone. Others, male and female, can be seen in the dark evenings like some sort of firefly creature moving around. The person is not seen, just a greening glow from their phone while they read important texts.


Changing trains I took several pictures of the line, secretly as possible to avoid being mistaken for an anorak! This enabled me to obtain not only the above picture but two at angles of 35 degrees and late at my destination, one of the platform itself!  There is something about railways, and something about the view as the line disappears into the distance.  When younger I watched a drama, worth watching in those days, that ended with a young couple on a rail platform as he made his move elsewhere. The story I forget but I recall an longing to move on down that line to find what was at the other end.  Now however, having been there, I find the longing less strong but an underlying desire to go and see does remain.  This time I no longer expect a pot of gold to be found there. 


For a couple of hours I was reminded of things I knew long ago, informed of the wonderful aid to help me 'back to work' that exists, but without being informed as to where the jobs themselves lay, and spent a jolly nice time with reasonable people, in the circumstances.  One thing I noticed was the spaces prepared for around a dozen participants, three turned up and one phoned in sick, he fell down the stairs on the bus or some such.  The rest?  I suspect several will not be interested, one or two will have seen it all before, and then there was us three.  Are these organisations really going to find 'placements' in firms?  If so will this be 'cheap labour?'  Who knows?  It is worth it just for the day out in the sun, the train journey and a few pictures. It makes a change from my usual humdrum routine, and nice to see some interesting, but grubby, Victorian buildings there.  I am back tomorrow for a more serious discussion and I will get a couple of shots of the buildings which intrigue me.  Clearly there was money here in Victorian days. "Who pays the fares?"  They did, good eh?

 


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