A pessimist: Transport Issues!

Usually I’m a big fan of public transport. Coming from a rural area, where you’ve got more chance of hitching a lift on a cattle wagon than catching a bus, I view access to public transport as a real treat. This was all before my train journey home this weekend.

Definitely Rural: The view from my bedroom window

Now, being a last minute girl through and through, I surprised myself when I arrived at Stoke station a good 20 minutes before my northern bound train was due to depart. Plenty of time to purchase my ticket, get myself a coffee for the journey, and have a leisurely walk to my platform- or so you would’ve thought.

There were three ticket salesmen behind the desks.

One man was dealing with two women who were obviously having ticket issues. It could have been that he was being extremely helpful by taking a great deal of time trying to resolve their issue, but more likely he was just being generally bad at his job by not being able to solve their problem quickly. Alternatively he may just have been working slowly.

The second man appeared to be on his break. He was sat there not doing an awful lot. Fair enough, it was lunch time and I believe that everybody should be entitled to have half an hour of peace and quiet, but surely the station would have a staffroom/office area he could go and sit in. Was it really necessary for him to loiter behind his desk, almost taunting the lengthy queue of travellers?

Ticket man number 3 was talking to a member of staff, who looked like a conductor. I think they were discussing a piece of paper work, although I can’t be entirely sure that they weren’t just having banter. For all I know there could’ve been a picture of a topless model on that piece of paper, and they could simply be discussing her fine curves.

The more time I spent waiting in the queue, the less time I wasted giving them the benefit of the doubt. Mr Lazy, Percy Perverson, and Snail paced Joe, were really grinding my gears.

With only two minutes left before my train left I stormed out of the non-moving queue, making no attempt to hide my dissatisfaction. I dragged my suitcase in a obviously unhappy manner. As I went to walk down the steps to the Subway to get onto the platform at the other side I passed the self ticket machines. Why on Earth hadn’t I thought to use these sooner?! With only a minute and a half until the train left I wondered if I really had time- but if you don’t buy your tickets before travel, often you’re not entitled to the same discounts- and there was no way I was paying non-student prices thanks to useless ticket salesmen. So, I punched my pin into the machine faster than you can say ‘visa debit’, and waited desperately for my tickets to drop out the bottom. Phew.

Luckily, two years since this video was taken, I've become more adept at working the self ticket machines!



With only 30 seconds to go I threw my suitcase over my shoulder and literally sprinted to the platform. The train was in. I managed to hop on it just as the doors were closing. The conductor lady gave me a look that could kill- as if me running late was a personal attack on her. Funnily enough, I didn’t enjoy the close shave either Missy!

Anyway, I reached my destination, a friend’s house in Lancaster, and was able to forget about the whole ticket escapade.

The next day however, I was travelling the final leg of my journey up to Cumbria, where the use of the self-ticket machine came back to bite me in the ass.

In my hurry I stupidly forgot that I would be spending the night in Lancaster, and as out-going tickets are only valid on the day of purchase I didn’t have a ticket to get me to Penrith, the station closest to my home.

The ticket collector on the train was thoroughly unsympathetic of my tale of ‘ticket office woe’. I wouldn’t have been surprised if I'd had smoke coming out of my ears as she stated I’d have to fork out yet more cash. Grrrrr.

They don't even have this sign anymore, to amuse me upon arrival!

Someone a bit more streetwise and cynical eventually did some re-wording!

All in all, a very unsatisfied traveller. I’m going to find the relevant person to complain to, and I’m going to rant my little socks off. (Though hopefully in a manner which will help them take me seriously and give me some form of compensation.)

My love of public transport has drastically dwindled.