Last week we visited the puffins on Scomer Island off the coast of Wales. Went by train, thought we were being very clever by timing our trip out and the return journey to straddle train strike days. But our Saturday cruise was cancelled because of the weather so we booked the Sunday cruise instead. The delay meant that we had to change our train times, and catch the last train out of Haverfordwest where we were staying, instead of a much earlier train. Despite British Rail promises to replace all rail staff with ticket machines, Haverfordwest station still has helpful, smiling staff, who were happy to cobble together a return journey that, with only a minor change from our original, still got us back to Reading in time to catch the last bus to Walllingford.
So we boarded our first leg train with confidence, hopped off at Swansea and went looking for our connecting train details. There it was up there on the board with a big red CANCELLED annotation next to it. No matter how long I stared at it, that CANCELLED annotation wouln't go away. Again, helpful railway staff told us that if we ran like crazy and hopped back on our last train before it left, we could make it to Cardiff. There we could change for the Bristol Templemeads train and from there we just might happen to find a train to Reading. So we ran back to our train and jumped back on just in time. At Cardiff, the helpful station staff told us that the Bristol Templemeads train was to leave from platform 3, so we headed over there and waited for the train. "Funny," we thought, ""The train details sign on this platform doesn't mention any trains to Bristol Templemeads. But that can't be right because the nice man told us." Casting our eye across the rail lines to Platform 2, we spotted the Bristol Templemeads train being loaded up with passengers, looking like it was ready for imminent departure. So we raced down the steps and across to platform 2 and jumped on, again just in time. During the journey, over the loudspeaker, the helpful guard announced that at Bristol Templemeads, we could catch the Reading/Paddington train from platform 11 if we didn't muck around too much.
So at Bristol Templemeads, a gaggle of us who wanted the Reading/Paddington train headed over to platform 11. Some of us noticed that across the rails on platform 9, there was a train looking mighty like the Reading/Paddington train loading up on passengers. Except for a couple of us, everyone jammed into the lift and pressed Down. But I hate those station lifts, they always take ages and are unpredictable. So along with one other, I took to the stairs, first down, then up to where the departing train was. The guards were just about to close all the doors and signal to leave, but puffing and panting, the two of us raced up and begged them to wait for the lift. They were reluctant -- seemed to think that any delays would be a terrible reflection on the efficiency of British High Speed Rail, but our implorings were enough -- the lift door burst open and disgorged the gaggle.
The train was packed but we managed to get seats. We're old after all, but there were quite a few standing. Two of which were a couple of friends, one of whom was tippling out of a bottle of red wine. The other friend looked like he had downed his bottle much faster and it hadn't done anything to promote that sense of personal relaxation that red wine can sometimes instill. Instead, he was in a mood where he wanted to fight anyone who made eye contact with him, and he invited quite a few fellow travellers who's eye he happened to catch to step outside at the next stop for a session of fisticuffs right there on the platform. The tippler friend bravely tried to dissuade him, and attempted to redress the threats by offering around sips from his bottle of wine. Everyone breathed easier when they both got off the train at Swindon. We finally got to Reading with plenty of time for the last bus. It was half an hour late in fact, so we had even more time.
