It’s a great plan, what could possibly go wrong?

I really do not enjoy working the night shift. Fortunately, I only have to endure them every three months, and then only for only a week at a time. As anyone who has ever waited for anything knows, the clock ticks slower than ever, as your eyes gradually begin to feel heavier and heavier, and just as you finally submit yourself to the inevitable sleep, your train arrives and it is back to the grindstone.

It was whilst working a nightshift that I chanced upon two of the unluckiest lads I have had the dubious pleasure to meet. I was working my last train of the night, although it was also one of the first trains to leave the in the morning. While carrying out my revenue duties I found two young men looking like they had had a sleepless night much like myself. I asked them for their tickets and, if truth be told, was surprised to find that they both were able to present a valid ticket to me.  However, on closer inspection both had given me a child ticket. On this occasion however, I took pity on them and decided to accept that they were in fact about 5 years younger than I thought and I moved on.

Finally we reached our destination and I was able to head home to a most welcome slumber. Yet as I was leaving the station I saw both boys had been stopped at the station exit barriers by the Revenue Protection Officers and were being asked to prove their ID and their age, but, surprise, surprise they had no proof with them. It was now their luck ran out. A man standing in the queue behind them said

‘Excuse me, but they do have ID’. Surprised by this intervention everybody turned to look and the man proceeded to explain.

‘You see, I am a custody sergeant for the police and these two were arrested last night for burglary and I booked them in! ‘Both men were subsequently prosecuted for their misdemeanours.  A bad night for them had suddenly turned into an even worse day.

But we're British, it's what we do.............

During times of difficulty we Anglo-Saxons certainly know what to do to make things better. We turn to a cup of tea. Well this evening was definitely a hard time. A series of signal failures lead to severe delays and cancellations. Poor commuters heading home were left on the platforms in a sea of despondant humanity all hoping for a miraculous change in circumstances that sadly took hours to arrive. However, as a member of train crew this situation presented a welcome opportunity to rest awhile, well 3 hours actually, in the salubrious surroundings of the mess room.  So what to do in these trying times but turn to a cup of tea. Risking life and limb I ventured onto the concourse and made my way to the cafe '2 teas please' only to be told 'sorry we haven't got any water'. I don't think I need to say anymore.

Of course I do, it’s a bloke who dresses in his mothers’ clothes…

It is hard to feel alone on the railway. Ordinarily you are surrounded by people from all walks of life who are just trying to get from A to B. Of course most of these people don’t want to talk to you. As I have mentioned before you do get asked the odd question, ’Is this Shrewsbury?’ whilst standing on the platform at Wolverhampton.

However, earlier this week I had one of those rare occasions when I felt very alone. It was one of those moments you think to yourself ‘Oh no’. You know, when you are in a café, train or bus and the ‘nutter’ gets on, you start to look out of the window or at your shoes in fact anywhere but no matter how hard you try you can't help but make eye contact, and they come and sit with you, and you think ‘oh no’ as they say ‘do you like fish?’

Anyway, let me set the scene. It is late at night, a virtually empty train, a train which is running on half power leading to an eerie half light, the smell of KFC wafting down the carriages and a guard shortly to finish a 9hour 46 minute shift. A guard, who, on this fateful night, decided to take a walk through the train just to see if anyone has fallen asleep and missed their stop. A guard, who, walked into 1st class and found a young woman sat bolt upright, at a table and looking slightly anxious,

‘Hello, are you ok?’ I enquired

‘Yes’ a moments pause and then she asked ‘Do you know what a psychopath is?’ OK, at this point I start frantically to look out of the window, at my shoes, my drink, her drink, anybody’s drink but it’s no good I can’t help myself,

‘Yes, of course’ and I’m now at her mercy, the fly caught in the spiders web.

‘What, what is a psychopath?’ she questioned,

‘Well it’s a bloke who wears his Mums clothes’ I joked. I now know this was not the time for fooling.

‘You see, you don’t know’ screeched the woman who was by now extremely agitated,

‘Nobody does’ she stood up and pointed at me and carried on, ‘I told her to leave me alone or I would tell the police, well it’s her problem now and why would she make friends with my sister, she now came from behind her table and advanced towards me, I felt like shouting out ‘I do like fish’ however, always the professional I once more enquired if she was OK and her reply left me in no doubt that she was, in fact, not OK. ‘Why don’t you sit down’ I spluttered, yet this only brought about a fresh round of questions regarding my knowledge of psychiatry, her sisters relationship with the other woman and, oddly, if I wanted to see her ticket!

As she got a second wind up I began to realise that she was talking about herself, she was the other woman. I made my excuses and left for the safety of the front of the train. Big mistake. Firstly, no passengers at all in the front half of the train and secondly, I now had to walk back past her. I entered 1st class and she looked at me as if I was a complete stranger and she asked ‘Do you know what a psychopath is?’ My initial reaction was to answer, ‘Yes, you’ but resisting I thought this time I would be clever, so I said ‘No’. Ha, game, set and match to me I thought. But oh no, not so fast, she saw this one coming, ‘You don’t, then sit down and I will tell you’. My heart sank as she launched into a tirade of ranting against the other woman, but then, just as I was imagining the next days headlines, a lifeline was thrown my way in the form of the automated train announcer who called out our imminent arrival at our journeys end.  As I got off the train I saw her talking to a half drunk football fan and they left the station together. I have never seen the football fan again!!!!!!!!!!!!

Riding with The Candy Man..............

I was on the train today that was held up between stations. After informing all the passengers that we would be stopped for around an hour I walked from the front of the train to the back. Sitting right by the back cab a chap asked me if I had anything to eat. I said I had and he asked me what. A little taken a back I joked he wouldn’t want any because he hadn’t tasted my wife’s cooking. Instead of laughing he looked straight at me and said ’I’m serious, I am diabetic’ without thinking I said ‘are you sure’

‘Well of course I’m sure and I need some something sweet’ he replied

Realising the urgency of the situation I ran, yes, ran to the driver and asked him the same question and obligingly he gave me a packet of crisps. Now, not being a Doctor I didn’t know if crisps were the required lifesavers so I decided to ask my passengers for their help and ask them if they could spare some chocolate for a fellow traveller in distress. I must say here and now their generosity was boundless and I returned to my hapless diabetic armed with enough chocolate to put Willy Wonka out of business. He received the gifts gratefully and I retired to my cab happy in the knowledge of a crisis averted. We finally got on the move again and eventually my patient alighted from the train. He thanked me for my help profusely and left. Left that is, with a large bag of free chocolate. In fact the lady who sat across from him told me she never actually saw him eat any. Was this a well rehearsed scam, or a genuine medical emergency, I guess I will never know, but one thing I am sure of, his children will eat well tonight.

Ready steady cook....but not kippers

Today was one of those days when nothing really of any note happened. All my trains ran on time without incident. The weather was fine, cold, but a cloudless blue sky. The passengers were fine, if also a little cold. In fact the only thing of note today was that I had a hot lunch instead of the usual cold meat sandwiches. Today, however, I had a chicken burger, expertly cooked, though I say it myself, with a little help from an 800w microwave. My culinary prowess goes from strength to strength. Not sure how healthy it was but it tasted so good I would imagine that it was not good for me at all. It might now be time to try a ready meal. I have always been too scared to cook in the mess room after seeing an experienced (politically correct speak for old) driver rip a young conductor to pieces for cooking kippers. They left a smell that lingered for days in the mess room leaving it not a pleasant place to be sitting for quite some time.

Send in the dogs….

Did any of you see the CCTV last year of the man in Wales who tried to take his pony on the train? Yes that’s right, his pony. He was captured by the cameras leading his pony into the station lift and onto the platform. On arrival of his train he calmly opened the doors and got on. Can you imagine the surprise of his fellow passengers on seeing a white pony board the train. Of course the intrepid guard did not allow his equine passenger to travel. I understand he had bought a ticket using a senior railcard when he was quite obviously only a yearling!!!!!!!!!! I heard that the pony enjoyed his day out so much that the next day he went to the zoo and then the local cinema!

This made me think about other animals I have seen on the train. Of course I did have a horde of football fans that trashed a first class carriage after an FA Cup defeat that was apparently hard to take. But I am talking about our four legged friends. Now I have never had anything bigger than a dog on board the train. However, even as a committed dog lover I am always wary when I find them in the confined space of the train. As you know the one thing we can be sure of is we don’t know how the dog will react. It is fair to say in 95% of cases the animals are fine and often take no notice of me or anybody else on board. However, that does leave 5% and it is this 5% that passes into railway folklore. I have been growled at, snapped at and barked at, and that’s just by the passengers, but my worst run in with a dog came some 3 years ago. Late one balmy summer evening I was on one of the last trains to the City.  A middle aged rather tough looking man, you know the type, all tattoos and heavy gold jewellery with a shaven head, got on the train with 2 German Shepherd dogs. Now these dogs were not puppies if you know what I mean. To be honest they would not have looked out of place outside Baskerville Hall. But, ever the professional I went for a ticket check. As I approached the trio the dogs went on full alert. Now they say dogs can smell fear, let me tell you I could smell fear. ‘Are they friendly?’ I stuttered.

‘Most of the time’ came a slightly menacing reply.  Both dogs sat to attention and stared ahead right at me and I am sure I noticed some lip curling going on.  Bravely I asked ‘have you got a ticket mate?’

‘No’ OK this was not the answer I was expecting or wanting. I looked at the dogs, I looked at the guy and decided this was not the time to push it. At this point I noticed that the carriage was completely clear of other passengers and it was about now I decided to make a tactical withdrawal back to where I had come from and the safety of the back cab with its lockable, savage-dog proof doors. I calmly unlocked the door,  stepped in and was relieved to have made it back to my safe haven. Yet my relief was premature for as I turned to await the doors to shut, and if you are familiar with train doors they do take an eternity to close, the maniac dog owner let out a command that was understood by both dogs and unwilling victim ‘fetch’ at which point both dogs hurtled free from their leads down the train towards my door where I was standing. Now readers, many things went through my head most of which are unprintable but it was about now I began to ponder the working of a train door. You see when you are training you are taught the many different ways to open a train door often in an emergency that you hope will never happen. Now, can you think of a flaw in our training? No, then let me enlighten you. How do you close the doors in an emergency? This procedure does not crop up in the syllabus. Well I can give you the answer. You can’t close the doors in an emergency. You can push that door for all your worth, you can flick whatever switch you can reach but that door is going to close only when the door itself deems that you have endured enough of whatever peril is bearing down upon you. In my case that peril was 2, not 1, but 2 extremely large and even more angry canine conductor hunter killers.  As I stood rooted to the spot with nowhere to go even if my legs hadn’t turned to concrete posts a dramatic race began to unfold, dog versus door. I don’t know if the man had pulled this stunt before but I take my hat off to his timing for just as the two dogs reached me the doors shut, and I locked them tight. When the feeling came back to my legs I took a step forward to spy into the train. The carriage now appeared empty but I decided to stay in the safety of the cab rather than risk a potential ambush. I never did see the man or the dogs get off the train and fortunately I have not seen him since and I never want to.

Animals are nothing if not unpredictable and are capable of doing things which are so funny you have to pinch yourself to see if they are true. I am reminded of another dog ‘funny’ in my previous job as the man from the Pru(insurance salesman). My job involved going to peoples houses to try and sell insurance policies. One day, whilst accompanied by my boss, I went to visit, let’s call her Mrs R.  Now Mrs R lived on a local council run estate and we turned up for a first visit. These appointments were called fact finds and were designed to gather data about our prospective client so we could make sound financial recommendations. They were normally very relaxed affairs and would last about an hour. So, we arrived at Mrs R’s house and as we walked up the path a rather skinny mongrel dog walked with us to her door. We were invited in and as we went into the house the dog came in with us and lay down in the sitting room where we were to have the meeting. No parties present commented on the dog, who, seemed very at home. During the meeting Mrs R offered us a cup of tea which we gratefully accepted. However, whilst she was making the tea the dog got up and started to walk round in circles. As a dog owner I recognised the tell tale signs of a dog about to go to the toilet. Sure enough the dog confirmed my fears and proceeded to defecate right in front of us. Both myself, and my colleague exchanged rather embarrassed looks but if the truth be told we found it rather funny.  When Mrs R returned with the tea she immediately took one look at the ‘deposit’ and rather than scold the dog she looked at the two of us with a kind of disgusted look but continued to serve tea without any reference to the offending item. Finally the meeting came to its natural conclusion and we left on reasonably good terms. During all this time the dog never moved, in fact you wouldn’t have known it was there but for the odd audible moan of contentment.  As we said our goodbyes and walked down the path Mrs R called out behind us ‘Hey, aren’t you going to take your dog with you?’

You see, it wasn’t her dog.

Dogs surely are mans best friend but on both the above occasions I was not pleased to see them unlike the guard in Wales who will be eating out for years thanks to a man with white pony.

If it's after 10 then all aboard !

Just a quick short story for you. Whilst working the late train last night I decided to do a quick ticket check. I walked into First Class and found only one passenger in there. 'Tickets please' the lady, who was resting her head on the table, looked at me and said 'I dont have one'. I asked her where she was going and she asked why. I told her she needed a ticket. Her reply surprised me because she explained calmly that she didn't need a ticket because it was free travel after 10.00pm. Needless to say she left first class with a full price ticket and a face as long as her journey.

Croeso i Milton Keynes

When  J K Rowling wrote the first Harry Potter book she could surely not have imagined the immense contribution to railway legend she was about to make. Ever since the first time Harry and Ron charged headfirst into the wall at the back of  platform 9 ¾ at Kings Cross, a generation of children of a certain age, together with adults of a certain drunken state, have attempted to pass through the solid stone walls of the old station, testament indeed to the writing of the talented Miss Rowling, and, to the strong desire to believe and to the power of extra strong lager.  However, these would be wizards have given us many stories of gruesome injuries and wounded egos. On the train of course we all hear or see things which make us wonder what were they thinking?

For any of you who know the mainline London stations you will know there is only one way in and out. This means, much to Harry Potters delight, there are solid walls at the end of the platforms offering the chance to transport yourself to another rarely visited world known as… hospital.  Earlier this week whilst waiting to leave the station one passenger was heard asking ’which way does the train go? ’ OK we are not all Sherlock Holmes but this is not the Hogwarts Express it’s the 9.24 to a sleepy home counties town that has seen no witchcraft since the days of Matthew Hopkins during the civil war.

So not knowing which way you are going is one thing and being kind, if you don’t use the train very often I suppose it is forgiveable but to not know which country you are in!  A family were talking and the daughter asked ‘where are we?’

‘Milton Keynes’ replied the mother

‘Oh, are we in Wales then’ I think it is safe to assume that the young lady in question will rely heavily on her SatNav in the years to come.

Regularly I am asked all sorts of questions as I walk through the train such as a simple request like ‘what time do we arrive in London’, simple that is providing we are going to London.  Some of my other highlights are the old favourite asking the guard whilst the train is speeding apparently towards oblivion ‘are you the driver’ closely followed by ‘how does the train know where to stop’. I find this interesting because when you have infrequent travellers the guard is probably the only train crew they see so it would seem logical to think that the guard is the driver despite how funny it may sound to those of us in the know.  Also funny was the comment made a teenage boy, who like most teenage boys knew, so he thought, everything,  when telling me in front of  his admiring parents how clever the train computer was to be able to tell the train where to stop. On this occasion I just agreed and both boy and parents were left to feel good, which is surely what my job is all about.   

Up in the North of this great country of ours there is a saying which goes ‘there’s nowt as funny as folk’. Railway passengers, it seems, go out of their way to maintain this old adage, they walk past you, point at the train and ask ‘Is this Nottingham?’ No, it’s a train. Or how about ‘can you tell me what time we arrive’ well, arrive where?’

Now I don’t want to give the impression that I am taking the mickey out of our passengers but I did say that humour abounds on the railway. It is hard not to see the humour in being asked ‘excuse me, but am I on the right train?’  because, you see, I don’t know where you are going.  I do, of course, understand that rail travel can be, to the uninitiated, somewhat confusing. Train stations are often busy, noisy and significantly, full of trains only one of which is yours.

Another question I get asked regularly is,

‘Is this the fast train?’

‘Well it goes over 100mph is that fast enough’ I then walk off grinning like a Cheshire Cat, train crew 1 v Passengers 0. It must be said at this point I always go back and answer the question correctly but you see I just can’t help myself. When I first started working I was told of the importance of asking the correct question which leaves no room for ambiguity. Years ago when I first started working I can still remember being ritually humiliated in a sales training course.  Whilst looking at an imaginary picture on an imaginary wall I asked my trainer ‘are those your children hanging on the wall’ then, realising what I had said, I felt like one those Saturday night revellers running headfirst into platform 9 ¾. So you see, what goes around does indeed come around.

Dont waive a red rag at a chicken............

I have always thought what a thoroughly humourless bunch our daily commuters are. They never raise a smile, rain or shine. They stand there in organised ranks until the train arrives, when they spring into life and we observe the commuters Grand National as the throng of humanity charge to reach the doors, and then proceed to aim for their daily seat. I am sure the next few seconds dictate how their day is going to go, for if someone is sitting in their normal seat..........well you know the rest. Anyway this week was worse than normal. Firstly, of course, after all the festivities of the Christmas and New Year period it was return to work morning. Never a good time, for it is while standing on the platform waiting to go to work that you start to ponder the year stretching ahead of you like a Bank Holiday traffic jam and wondering will you ever get to the end of it.  You can think about all the good intentions from last year that never came to fruition, you never gave to that charity you saw on TV, you didn't go to the gym and  you certainly didn't give up your job and move to the country to raise rare breeds of chickens. Hence the reason you're standing on the platform waiting for the train to take you to the metropolis at stupid o'clock still dreaming of Lincolnshire Buffs and Scots Dumpys.

This week of course, of all weeks, we have had some atrocious weather. So not only are our passengers returning to work for a 12 month stretch but they are doing so in the midst of the worst storms since, well, since the last time the press told us we were enduring the worst storms since records began. Of course the bad weather has given rise a whole collection of new coats with matching hats and gloves, you knew it was going to be worthwhile standing in the queues at 5.00am vouchers in hand waiting for the post Christmas sales to start.

So, you're going back to work at the start of a new year, its rainy and cold, there is someone sitting in your usual seat, what could possibly make the start of your day, nay year, even worse.  How about a rise in the cost of your ticket. Okay, I know how you feel and you're right it is annoying but there is no point in taking it out on the train crew. Believe me, my colleagues on the train and I didn't set the fare increases and we don't have the ear of the people who did so why take your frustration out on us. If you are though, at least have the courage to tell us to face to face, dont wait until we have gone past and then make some remark that is designed for us to hear, what do you think we are going to say other than agree with you. As I walked through the train I came across a group of 4 smartly dressed city types, 'tickets and passes please' all four duly obliged without a cross word from their lips yet as I came back and passed by them, the young lady(and I use the term lady quite incorrectly) waited for me to be within earshot and announced to those around her that 'it doesn't matter what the ticket costs it will still be a sh1t service'. Now we both knew she wanted a reaction but I am afraid to say as she waived the red flag behind me I rather pathetically waived a white one back. You see in a carriage full of angry, wet, cold workshy commuters discretion was the better part of valour and I made a tactical retreat to the safety of the cab to lick my wounds.

So when we arrive at our final destination our gallant commuters, still smileless, file out of the doors of the train still dreaming of the small holding and those chickens.Maybe this year, just maybe.

Welcome to A View From The Cab

A very big welcome to this, my blog. I hope you find it interesting. If you have ever watched the hit US TV series Seinfeld, you might be familiar with the format, that is, this is a blog about nothing. Now there is an idea. You see, on the train every day I come across day to day scenarios that are familiar to us all in our own worlds,  frustration, anger, humour, kindness, arrogance and many more besides. Of all of these I am glad to say that humour is by far the most common because you can find the humour in any situation. Of course, there are days when nothing of note happens at all. However, these days are rare. When you do get one of these days then you are thankful but it gives you more time to reflect on important matters such as who was the model for our uniform ! But more about that later.

During the coming blogs I shall introduce various characters who work on or use the railway. Their identities, naturally, will be kept a closely guarded secret as you would expect, but rest assured all the events I shall talk about are real and not made up. In some instances I may have heard about them second hand not having been directly involved but they will be real life events. We often comment when sat around in our messrooms up and down the line that 'you could not make it up' and as you will see some situations are so bizarre you really could not.

Also, I shall not use these ramblings to pass comment on any of my colleagues or my employers. I am very grateful to have been given the chance to work on our railways and will keep my personal inner most thoughts to myself with regards to certain matters. I will, from time to time, refer to some of my previous experiences where I feel it may link to the subject matter that I am writing about.

I do hope you enjoy my thoughts and if you are ever on a train you might spare a thought for the much maligned train crew.