Disgruntled Commuter

The Bees Knees

I really thought I had the last word in hi-visibility cycling gear, what with my fancy flourescent new scary yellow jacket and all. But I was wrong. For as I cycled round the corner yesterday in my distressingly lo-visibility jeans, what did I see but a vision in yellow: she had on not just a bright flourescent cycling jacket but also bright flourescent tights. It seems acid-yellow 30 denier nylon tights are the business when it comes to safety gear. At least, that's what I hope it means. Because the alternative is that this season acid-yellow 30 denier nylon tights are actually fashionable instead ... and they wouldn't do that to us, would they?

Would they?
1.5.07 18:31


Now Wash Your Hands

I know that some people are so attached to their mobile phones that they're probably going to have to have them surgically removed, but I did think there were some limits. Until today, when I was startled to overhear a lively conversation coming from the toilet cubicle next to mine. I quickly realised the conversation was purely one-sided, but that didn't make it any better. Especially after my unseen neighbour announced 'I'm just in the toilet now, but I'll deal with it when I get out.' Just what, exactly, are you supposed to say to that?

But maybe I'm being a prude, behind the curve again, failing to move with the times. What's the modern ettiquette here? Is it okay to answer it but not to make outgoing calls? Number ones only, or anything goes? How about sound effects? And chaps, don't you need both hands?

And as for announcing where you are and what you're doing: surely some things, even in these benighted times, should go unsaid? Or should I simply be grateful it wasn't a video call?
2.5.07 18:52


Vauxhall, Vauxhall

I thought the tannoy announcements at Vauxhall station had reached a new level of irritatingness this week, but it was only this morning that I worked out why. They're saying everything twice. Not as in they're repeating themselves over time - they were doing that already. But as in they announce the weekend's engineering festivities, pause a beat, then they play the exact same announcement again. Same thing with the security announcement. I can't think why - it's not as though they have a shortage of the damn things. But that's what they're doing.

I thought the tannoy announcements at Vauxhall station had reached a new level of irritatingness this week, but it was only this morning that I worked out why. They're saying everything twice. Not as in they're repeating themselves over time - they were doing that already. But as in they announce the weekend's engineering festivities, pause a beat, then they play the exact same announcement again. Same thing with the security announcement. I can't think why - it's not as though they have a shortage of the damn things. But that's what they're doing.

Annoying, isn't it?
3.5.07 20:03


Long Weeks and Long Weekends

Oof, it's been a long week. I realised this when I dreamt this morning that my usual train arrived half full of dead and comatose people. Naturally I got on anyway - a train is a train is a train after all, and a seat is a seat, although I did make sure I sat next to someone who hadn't decomposed too much. And the real train, when it arrived, wasn't that much different as far as the liveliness of its inhabitants went - I think we've all had a long week.

And it's not just us who's feeling it, it's the tube staff too. According to this blog's London Bridge correspondent there was a long drawn out semi-amusing announcement at the station about the next Northern line train that ended with - as the train arrived - 'and on behalf of Ken Livingston and Transport for London Limited, may I wish you all a very pleasant journey.' That bank holiday? It can't come soon enough.
4.5.07 19:13


On the Rack

As part, no doubt, of its New Era, SouthWest Trains had been labouring mightily at Kew Bridge prior to my going away on holiday. So I was interested to see what wonderful station improvements I would be coming back to: a ticket office perhaps, or at least a permit to travel machine now that we're in the penalty fare zone? A waiting room? Or at the very least a couple of benches for people to sit on out of the rain, given that the current seating capacity at Kew Bridge is something like 12 per platform and that's for very good friends only? Well, no. We got none of these things. What we got instead was a new bike rack. A very spiffy bike rack, don't get me wrong, with room for up to 20 bikes and a sheltering roof which would be more useful were it not already under the pedestrian bridge and hence quite sheltered from the rain already, but never mind.

What's this, I hear you cry - she can't possibly be about to complain about them building bike racks, can she? And she a cyclist and everything? Well just you watch, for I can complain about anything, and I'm going to complain about this. You see, Kew Bridge didn't have much in the way of anything at the station before. The person who had drawn up the map of station facilities had had to work quite hard to find anything to put in it at all and had included every bench and litter bin. But what we did have was bike racks: two of them, with room for 10 bikes each. Which we still have. So the total bike parking capacity at Kew Bridge station is now a massive 40 bikes, compared to a bum-parking capacity of 24. Not bad going for a station where both platforms are at the foot of two flights of stairs and the greatest number of bikes I have ever seen parked there is three.

So where does this leave the weary traveller who wishes to sit and wait for the train and didn't think to bring a bike to sit on? Well, I suppose we could just treat the shiny new bike racks as though they were very small rather high benches and sit on those. They wouldn't be very comfortable, but at least we'd be well sheltered from the rain...
8.5.07 19:00


Shave and a Haircut

If someone you saw frequently - more or less every day, say, for over a year - got their hair cut, you'd notice, wouldn't you? Especially if it wasn't a trim but something radical like going from long grey dreadlocks to a short back and sides. A haircut like that deserves a comment - it would be almost rude not to mention it.

Except - and this is the crucial point - when you only know the person in question from sitting opposite him on the train. You see I don't know him - although we have once exchanged pleasantries. I just see him every day. I'm quite well disposed to him, too - nice and quiet, doesn't litter, no loud music or conversation, keeps his bag where it belongs, dry sense of humour: in short, the perfect travelling companion. So it wouldn't do to spook him by mentioning the new look, or in fact in any way indicating that I have noticed his existence. Even though I had to bite my lip not to...

Still, if you're reading this, oh nice quiet person who gets the 7:41 Hounslow train and gets off at Kew Bridge every morning: Looking sharp, mate. Although I do kind of miss the dreadlocks.
9.5.07 09:42


Confusion as Usual

Oh there were fun and games at the station at Vauxhall this morning. When I got to the entrance there was an ominous message up on the screens about a power cut but they quickly replaced that with another message about the weekend engineering works because it's obviously a lot more urgent to tell people about the trains they aren't going to be able to get on Sunday than to let them know about the trains they might be able to get today. The announcer on platform 8 was blaming a broken down train on the platform (until it underwent a miraculous recovery and chugged away, after which they fell back on the vague (but undeniable) 'problem at Vauxhall') and sent everyone over from there to platform 3. This at least meant we platform 3 bods were able to get a good close up look at them (the platform 8 people still wear suits to work ... what's that about?) but didn't get them much closer to their destination because their trains were actually running from Clapham Junction. So the platform 3 station assistant stepped into the information breach and emerged from his hidey-hole to answer their questions, an easier task than it might at first seem because in this situation there's only one answer to any of them, especially after you've stopped listening to the questions:

'How do I get to Wimbledon?'
'Take the train to Clapham Junction and change there.'
'How do I get to Kingston/New Malden/Southampton/Portsmouth/San Jose?'
'Take the train to Clapham Junction and change there.'
'Excuse me, can you tell me where the toilets are?'
'Take the train to Clapham Junction and change there.'

Actually, now I come think about it there are no toilets at Vauxhall. So maybe that last was the right answer after all ...
10.5.07 21:10


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