The Train Line App wouldn’t sell me a ticket for my usual train and indicated that the first two off peak services were cancelled. This was an issue for me because I’m an hour and a half late for work on the best of days, but there was nothing I could do.
Instead, I bought a ticket for the 07:58 from Lancaster, with a change at Crewe for a faster service in to London. Not ideal, but would avoid an extra hour of lateness.
It also meant that I had time for a Gregs Bacon bun with dob of brown sauce.
It was a fine morning to sit in the shade, munching bacon, and watching trains. A class 88 passed through at half past seven, heading north on the mainline, running light. Then five minutes later, at 07:35, the allegedly cancelled 07:41, the one I should have been on, whizzed through Carnforth, on time. It was a nine carriages train again, too short for comfort, so I avoided that misery again at least.
I arrived at Lancaster at 07:53. On the Airport train, a class 195, bright clean and airy. Well loaded but comfortable. Plenty of time to catch the 07:58 for Euston, when it arrives at 08:33.
While waiting, I take a moment to check the morning sevices. None of the trains I wanted to catch this morning that showed as cancelled on Trainline, were actually cancelled. Slightly miffed about that.
The platform tanoy announces that the next direct train to Euston will be the 08:41, expected at 08:44, and only nine carriages again. I have to chose between the 08:41, due Euston 11:12, or the earlier 07:58, due 08:34, estimated for Euston at 11:55. The plan was to change from the slow train at Crewe for a faster one, but the 08:41 is fastest, and I had already missed the faster connections at Crewe, so there is no point. I decided to suffer the faster shorter train.
08:31, the platform PIS announces the slow train is running so late that it will skip the West Midlands and run direct to London. I take a moment to quietly express my gratitude and make my way to the correct part of the platform to board one of the unreserved carriages.
I gradually become aware of a large group of primary age school children forming around me, they are going to London too. I reckon about fifty of them. This was going to be a loud journey.
I left Lancaster at 08:41, but not on the 08:41, on the 07:58. The one that goes through the midlands, except that its not going through the midlands, so unless we are over taken by the 08:41, we should get to Euston first.
The train seams pleasantly loaded, the hoard of school children having boarded a different carriage, sparing my peace, but I am only too aware that anyone could get on at the next stop. This gives me the idea for a short story, The Later Train.
The Later Train.
Lone traveller is seated by the window enjoying the journey home when the train is joined by a group of three drunk but good tempered Glaswegians from 1973. They some how missed their own train and found themselves in 2026. Hilarity ensues.
After leaving Preston, no sooner than I had formulated that idea, we are forewarned by the Train Manager that a large group of children will be joining at Warrington, their train was cancelled, and they will seated in Coach G. I am in coach G. I am reminded of the time when the wires were down and we had to travel up to Leeds from Kings Cross. Thankfully, they cannot reserve seats that are already occupied on Avanti, unlike LNER. Ugh.
We crawled through Rugby at 10:36, and made an unscheduled stop at one of the platforms. I could see from the App that the 08:41 was just minutes behind us, and wondered if we had stopped for it to over take us. And then it over took us.
I don’t have tracking for my own train by this point because we are off route, but I was using the tracking for the train behind us to judge our progress, but now we are behind it, its harder to say.
The children are well behaved, but they are very loud. Singing, clapping, shouting.
We passed one of the Lumos at Milton Keynes, and shortly after that, the kids noticed that they are on a tilting train. “Why did it tip just then?”, “why does it look like we’re flying?” How could they be taking the train to London and the teachers not even mention the technological marvel that allows us to travel faster on a curvey bendy route such as this. The state of education these days…
And is it just me, or does the automated voice say “Novanti Trains” instead of “Avanti Trains”?
The Way Back Home is Always Long…
Like the day before, I checked the times and the length of the trains for the journey home. The half four was a nine carriages train, too short, but the half five had no consist information yet, so I decided to chance it and said yes to a couple of beers.
Halfway through my second beer I checked the train app and saw that the half five was cancelled. That will explain why there was no consist info. There was no consist. A consist being the composition of railway vehicles that combine to form a train.
No problem, have a couple more beers.
Its very hot in London at the moment, its warmer than the Canaries, the place we like to go for hot weather.
Not being sure of where I was exactly, I left the pub, the name of which I have already forgotten and headed for Euston. I must have got turned around somehow because I noticed that things didn’t look familiar, but did not look unfamiliar. I thought I was on Gower Street, heading towards Euston, but was actually on Tavistock Place, heading the wrong way, and my feet hurt. Lucky I need the exercise.
Arrived at Euston, at about 18:00 and went straight to the Cornish Pasty stall. I had walked passed the stall so many times and regretted not buying anything once on board the train and everyone opens up their hot food. So I bought a steak and ale pasty. Seven quid odd. Fuck off! For a pasty? It is what it is I suppose, but seven quid, fuck right off. Pardon my French.
Boarded the 18:30 at about ten past six at coach G, walked right through it. No air conditioning. It was like an oven. Found a seat instead in Coach U. And then ate my seven quid fuck off steak and ale pasty.
There was a bing bong noise. The Train Manager had an announcement. Do Not Sit in Coaches G or C, they are over heating! And because the shop is located in Coach C, there would be no shop on board this service. And thus, the theme of this Journey’s disruption was established.
It could have been worse. I could have been on the Tring train.
In fairness to Avanti, the train left on time, and only lost half an hour by the time we reached Lancaster, and that was due to scallies. And the Half Six on a Tuesday is clearly the time to travel. Even with the cancelled half five, and the unusable coaches G and C, and also D, as it was later announced, there were still spare seats. And free chilled water being handed out throughout the journey. So I can’t complain.
And how can I complain with the English scenery, the intermittent air conditioning, and the free water.
All was going well until we were approaching Warrington and we hit a red light. Trespassers were reported on the line, and they had left debris on the line that had to be cleared before any trains could proceed. Can’t everything I suppose.
But I did a pic of a 769 at Wigan.
These long days of travel disruption could have been avoided if I’d simply taken a hotel outside of central London. Wimbledon has had a ripple effect that means all of my cosy two star Bloomsbury hotels are now the same price I would expext to pay at The Plaza, but there were alternatives, but then I’d miss out on all of this.
Alls well that ends well, thats what I say.
Duggan's Dig 
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