My Train Journey
I guess I hd better start yesterday, seeing as I haven't posted in a whole day (shock horror).
I planned to take a train up to the magical world of Lancaster university, on some handilly placed trains, and generally take a break from home for a bit. We all need a break every now and again, right?!
So I got my train timetable, packed ny bags, and headded off to the station.
So I'm at the station, bought my ticket (£42!!!) and I stumble across an Aimee; I had seen her the day before, and completely forgot that she was plnning to go to meadowhall with her boyfriend and his friends, but it was nice to bump into her.
So this prompted all the usual questions, "Why have you got a bag? Where are you going?" and so on, so I travelled as far as Sheffield with her, before I had to change for my next train.
I had an hour to work out which train went to Manchester Oxford Road, my next stop, so I wandered and familliarised myself with the station because I would be visiting this place again in two days, and it is reassuring to know where everything is.
So I asked the mn where my train was, and he told me it was the one that goes to Liverpool Lime Street, so I checked on the board when it came up, and it was, so I boarded the train.
It was quite a nice train, and I was alone for 5 minutes which was nice, but then a Brummy sat next to me talking to his friends, and he smelled quite strongly of cabbage.
But this was nothing compared to some of the people you get on the meadowhall train at 10am, so I just grinned and put up with it.
And so an hour later I arrived at Manchester Oxford.
I wasn't looking forward to this stop, as I had never been here before and I only had 8 minutes to find my train, so dashing about like a madman, I asked the train-man (Matrix reference #1) where my train was; he told me it had been cancelled and I was to travel backwards to Manchester Picadilly to get a coach to Bolton, to get my train to Lancaster from there.
Pissed off, as I had just come from Mancs Pickle, I got on the train muttering under my breath about why I don't like public transport.
Okay, so I arrived at Branston Pickle (it was a long journey, I had to keep myself entertained somehow...) and tried to find the coach area.
Looking at signs, I followed the coach sign (as seemed most logical) until I got to some kind of junction where there was the "Coach Staion" and the "City Link" bit; not knowing where to go, I followed the woman with the purple bag from the train.
I eventually arrived outside, met by rain and a large line of people.
I walked up to this line and enquired about the Bolton bus, to which I was greeted with:
"Yes, this is the bus to Bolton, get to the back of the queue."
How rude.
But I followed my instruction from posh-woman, and went to the back of the queue.
I must be very approachable, because while I was standing in the cold, wet, windy line, several people kept asking me about coaches.
I don't know why.
And so after 20 minutes, I got a seat on a coach.
Now these coaches aren't exactly double-decker luxury seated marvels of engineering, far from it, they're more like a sardine tin.
Small, cramped, made from half a milimetre of aluminium....you get the picture.
So we're all crammed into this small coach, and this Scottish woman keeps moaning about how she needs to get to Glasgow by nightfall, and she should be in Preston.
I was so close to yelling that we're all in the same situation, but another woman did that for me; I laughed.
And so we were in this cold, damp, cramped coach for a long time, and every 5 minutes my phone starts vibrating.
Because the luggage rack is full, I had my bag on my lap; tis secured my place in this coach, because aparently people are unwilling to do this....I don't know why.
Hence why I couldn't answer my phone.
Of course this made me annoyed, as my family has a tendancy of irrational fear, and if I'm not answering my phone, it means I'm dead/injured in some way in the minds of the family.
So I'm sitting there, wanting to get my phone, but I'm unable to.
So I sat there and waited.
And so we eventualy arrived at bolton.
YAY!
I was sub-vocally doing the bo-selecta Vernon Kay "I'm from Bolton!" bit, which kept me entertained for a while.
And so I went to platform 4, where my train was meant to leave from, and the whole platform was completely packed full of people.
So I went up to the train-man (Matrix reference #2) and asked him if this train was going through Lancaster.
My reply was a big fat no.
He told me I needed to get the train to southport, change at wigan, and get the Glasgow train to Lancaster.
*sigh*
And then, to top it all, they changed the platform so I had to trapse over to platform 3 where my train was.
And so I got on the train, one of the first ones I might add, and sat oposite a very pretty girl who was doing advanced Math.
I asked her whether she knew about the change in Wigan, as I had lost most of my faith in train operators, but she just said I will have to see when I got there. Made me lugh for a bit anyway.
So I'd been sitting on the train oposite PrettyGirl (I have to give them nicknames so I remember) for 10 minutes, getting annoyed that the train wasn't leaving, when FatAndBloatedMan cat next to her.
It rather reminded me of the Slitheen from Dr Who because he looked like his skin didn't fit properly and he kept farting and burping and stuff...PrettyGirl and I were disgusted.
So I sat there for half an hour when PrettyGirl told me she had 2 weddings to attend to that she should be at, so she's annoyed; I replied with "Well I'm already 2 hours late..."
I needed to share my annoyance.
But then a man who was sitting next to us (not FatandBloated, this one was PervyEngineer) came back from his fag break telling us they had lost the train driver.
How do you lose a train driver?!
But I waited, and after 45 minutes of sitting there doing nothing, the train began to move.
And so eventually I arrived at Wigan; well, one of the Wigans.
At the Wigan I arrived at, there was a train-man (matrix reference #3), so I asked where my train was.
He told me there wasn't one leaving from this station, so I calmy asked:
"THEN WHERE DO I GET MY TRAIN?!"
He told me to go to the station across the road; people can be cruel.
So I went there, and asked the ticket operator where my train was, and so I journeyed to platform 9 3/4...I mean 5.
The sign there said "Stopping at Lancaster" so I did a little dance of joy.
I also managed to scrape enough change together to buy a bar of galaxy; see I hadn't had lunch, so Galaxy was rather nice.
I sucked it to make it last.
Then another woman came up to me asking where the train to Preston was, I knew this as I am now qualified to be a train-man (Matrix reference #3) and I directed her to the right platform.
People are thankful when I'm helpful.
Then my train arrived, so I boarded it.
On the train, there were no seats, and it was a Virgin Bullet so I was getting thrown around everywhere when it moved.
I had to stand next to DrunkenChavWithStella, which annoyed me.
And I was right next to the toilet, so people kept going to pee right next to me, which made me a little germophobic.
Then PoshAnnoyingGirl1 and PoshAnnoyingGirl2 stood next to me, who were marvelling at the wonders of trains, and complaing that "It should be wider" so they're egos would fit in it.
It made me snicker when they were talking about how many clothes they had brought, and so needed several bras to go with their several outfits.
I hate people.
So I got off at Lancaster, and escaped the train station, and followed GirlWearingLancasterUniTop into the city center, where I found a Greggs and devoured the only 2 pasties they had left, Cheese and Onion.
They were nice.
From the Greggs, I made my way to the bus stop, by following Becks directions, and found PoshAnnoyingGirl1+2 waiting for a bus, this time complaining about the bus being late.
And so the bus took me to the uni.
See, I'm surprisingly resilliant when put in stressful situations.
I would have written about the halloween party here too, but I need to shower and I've stolen becks PC for too long now ^.^
Adieu.
I planned to take a train up to the magical world of Lancaster university, on some handilly placed trains, and generally take a break from home for a bit. We all need a break every now and again, right?!
So I got my train timetable, packed ny bags, and headded off to the station.
So I'm at the station, bought my ticket (£42!!!) and I stumble across an Aimee; I had seen her the day before, and completely forgot that she was plnning to go to meadowhall with her boyfriend and his friends, but it was nice to bump into her.
So this prompted all the usual questions, "Why have you got a bag? Where are you going?" and so on, so I travelled as far as Sheffield with her, before I had to change for my next train.
I had an hour to work out which train went to Manchester Oxford Road, my next stop, so I wandered and familliarised myself with the station because I would be visiting this place again in two days, and it is reassuring to know where everything is.
So I asked the mn where my train was, and he told me it was the one that goes to Liverpool Lime Street, so I checked on the board when it came up, and it was, so I boarded the train.
It was quite a nice train, and I was alone for 5 minutes which was nice, but then a Brummy sat next to me talking to his friends, and he smelled quite strongly of cabbage.
But this was nothing compared to some of the people you get on the meadowhall train at 10am, so I just grinned and put up with it.
And so an hour later I arrived at Manchester Oxford.
I wasn't looking forward to this stop, as I had never been here before and I only had 8 minutes to find my train, so dashing about like a madman, I asked the train-man (Matrix reference #1) where my train was; he told me it had been cancelled and I was to travel backwards to Manchester Picadilly to get a coach to Bolton, to get my train to Lancaster from there.
Pissed off, as I had just come from Mancs Pickle, I got on the train muttering under my breath about why I don't like public transport.
Okay, so I arrived at Branston Pickle (it was a long journey, I had to keep myself entertained somehow...) and tried to find the coach area.
Looking at signs, I followed the coach sign (as seemed most logical) until I got to some kind of junction where there was the "Coach Staion" and the "City Link" bit; not knowing where to go, I followed the woman with the purple bag from the train.
I eventually arrived outside, met by rain and a large line of people.
I walked up to this line and enquired about the Bolton bus, to which I was greeted with:
"Yes, this is the bus to Bolton, get to the back of the queue."
How rude.
But I followed my instruction from posh-woman, and went to the back of the queue.
I must be very approachable, because while I was standing in the cold, wet, windy line, several people kept asking me about coaches.
I don't know why.
And so after 20 minutes, I got a seat on a coach.
Now these coaches aren't exactly double-decker luxury seated marvels of engineering, far from it, they're more like a sardine tin.
Small, cramped, made from half a milimetre of aluminium....you get the picture.
So we're all crammed into this small coach, and this Scottish woman keeps moaning about how she needs to get to Glasgow by nightfall, and she should be in Preston.
I was so close to yelling that we're all in the same situation, but another woman did that for me; I laughed.
And so we were in this cold, damp, cramped coach for a long time, and every 5 minutes my phone starts vibrating.
Because the luggage rack is full, I had my bag on my lap; tis secured my place in this coach, because aparently people are unwilling to do this....I don't know why.
Hence why I couldn't answer my phone.
Of course this made me annoyed, as my family has a tendancy of irrational fear, and if I'm not answering my phone, it means I'm dead/injured in some way in the minds of the family.
So I'm sitting there, wanting to get my phone, but I'm unable to.
So I sat there and waited.
And so we eventualy arrived at bolton.
YAY!
I was sub-vocally doing the bo-selecta Vernon Kay "I'm from Bolton!" bit, which kept me entertained for a while.
And so I went to platform 4, where my train was meant to leave from, and the whole platform was completely packed full of people.
So I went up to the train-man (Matrix reference #2) and asked him if this train was going through Lancaster.
My reply was a big fat no.
He told me I needed to get the train to southport, change at wigan, and get the Glasgow train to Lancaster.
*sigh*
And then, to top it all, they changed the platform so I had to trapse over to platform 3 where my train was.
And so I got on the train, one of the first ones I might add, and sat oposite a very pretty girl who was doing advanced Math.
I asked her whether she knew about the change in Wigan, as I had lost most of my faith in train operators, but she just said I will have to see when I got there. Made me lugh for a bit anyway.
So I'd been sitting on the train oposite PrettyGirl (I have to give them nicknames so I remember) for 10 minutes, getting annoyed that the train wasn't leaving, when FatAndBloatedMan cat next to her.
It rather reminded me of the Slitheen from Dr Who because he looked like his skin didn't fit properly and he kept farting and burping and stuff...PrettyGirl and I were disgusted.
So I sat there for half an hour when PrettyGirl told me she had 2 weddings to attend to that she should be at, so she's annoyed; I replied with "Well I'm already 2 hours late..."
I needed to share my annoyance.
But then a man who was sitting next to us (not FatandBloated, this one was PervyEngineer) came back from his fag break telling us they had lost the train driver.
How do you lose a train driver?!
But I waited, and after 45 minutes of sitting there doing nothing, the train began to move.
And so eventually I arrived at Wigan; well, one of the Wigans.
At the Wigan I arrived at, there was a train-man (matrix reference #3), so I asked where my train was.
He told me there wasn't one leaving from this station, so I calmy asked:
"THEN WHERE DO I GET MY TRAIN?!"
He told me to go to the station across the road; people can be cruel.
So I went there, and asked the ticket operator where my train was, and so I journeyed to platform 9 3/4...I mean 5.
The sign there said "Stopping at Lancaster" so I did a little dance of joy.
I also managed to scrape enough change together to buy a bar of galaxy; see I hadn't had lunch, so Galaxy was rather nice.
I sucked it to make it last.
Then another woman came up to me asking where the train to Preston was, I knew this as I am now qualified to be a train-man (Matrix reference #3) and I directed her to the right platform.
People are thankful when I'm helpful.
Then my train arrived, so I boarded it.
On the train, there were no seats, and it was a Virgin Bullet so I was getting thrown around everywhere when it moved.
I had to stand next to DrunkenChavWithStella, which annoyed me.
And I was right next to the toilet, so people kept going to pee right next to me, which made me a little germophobic.
Then PoshAnnoyingGirl1 and PoshAnnoyingGirl2 stood next to me, who were marvelling at the wonders of trains, and complaing that "It should be wider" so they're egos would fit in it.
It made me snicker when they were talking about how many clothes they had brought, and so needed several bras to go with their several outfits.
I hate people.
So I got off at Lancaster, and escaped the train station, and followed GirlWearingLancasterUniTop into the city center, where I found a Greggs and devoured the only 2 pasties they had left, Cheese and Onion.
They were nice.
From the Greggs, I made my way to the bus stop, by following Becks directions, and found PoshAnnoyingGirl1+2 waiting for a bus, this time complaining about the bus being late.
And so the bus took me to the uni.
See, I'm surprisingly resilliant when put in stressful situations.
I would have written about the halloween party here too, but I need to shower and I've stolen becks PC for too long now ^.^
Adieu.