Wednesday, 7 August 2013

This blog will be calling at Peeved Park, Disgustington and Vexville

Public transport. I am not a fan. The main reasons being the involvement of the public and the false promise of transportation.
Funnily enough sharing a small, stuffy space with the great unwashed, and paying well over the odds for the pleasure, is not my idea of a good time. Aside from the sorry lack of hygiene demonstrated by so many in modern society, they're a right miserable bunch to have to look at. Except, of course, on the tube, where you DO NOT look at anyone. Yes, their arse may be on fire, but you will be assumed to be insane/dangerous if you try to help. I also learned when I was younger that it's not a great idea to wander through tube stations wondering, in a loud voice, with an Irish accent, where the bloody bins are. People get tetchy.
The involvement of the public and their smelly, grumpy ways would, perhaps, be slightly more bearable if said transport did what it was supposed to do and at least carried you from A to B anywhere in the region of the allotted time. Sadly the only things for which buses and trains in the UK can be relied upon are tardiness and/or breakdowns (are we sure Broken Britain refers to moral collapse?) Recent examples (of which there are many) include hundreds of passengers being stranded on a train for nearly 6 hours and several days of rail disruption when cables were stolen and replaced. And then stolen again. Seriously.
Buck up your ideas dude
Even when things are running relatively smoothly, there are the constant announcements. This train will be calling at… The next stop is... over, and over, and over, and over. Until of course, said train stops in the middle of nowhere and you'd quite like to know what the hell is going on. Then, you get nothing. Except perhaps an eventual surly 'apology' for the delay due to leaves / snow / puddles / feathers / subatomic particles / fairies on the tracks, or the tracks just generally not feeling up to it and needing a little lie down. It could be worse though. You could be on a bus amongst the aggressive pensioners, the gaggles of shrieking/'singing' teenage girls (x factor has a LOT to answer for) and the generally unhinged.
If you go down to the bus today, you're sure of a big surprise
Residing in Edinburgh, I can’t possibly avoid mention of the dirty T word... *whispers through gritted teeth* the trams. I could go on about the exorbitant expense, the incompetent management, the disruption, or the fact that they are entirely unnecessary, but other dictators have been there and done that , and a new complaints choir are even airing their grievances in song. If only I could sing.