Bad fare day
Let me start by apologising for the title of this post, which is sort of about travel on public transport but not about fares. It is, however, the best I've got, so let's not dwell on my sub-editorial shortcomings and instead take a cheery look at the awful day's travel that I endured.
It is odd, isn't it, how troubles do seem to come in batches. Not necessarily threes although arguably mine did today. Firstly, I arrived at Lancaster station with a few minutes to spare, so I bought my tickets from the machine and ambled across to Costa. I looked at the departures board on my way in, only to be struck by the absence of any trains bound for London.
Reluctantly forgoing my Americano I walked up to the ticket office, where I was informed that there were no trains to London this week, due to engineering works. He added, helpfully, that there had been notices up for the last two months alerting travellers to this fact. I was, perhaps unfairly, put in mind of The Hitch Hiker's Guide To The Galaxy at this point but rather than grumbling I asked for any tips on how I might reach London and I was told I'd need to go via Manchester.
I suppose at this point I might have given up but it seemed that there would still be time to grab a coffee and I was heartened by this shallow fact, so I proceeded to email the person chairing the meeting to push back the start time by half an hour.
The train, when it arrived, was rather busy but, as a seasoned traveller, I took a good look at the seat reservations and successfully found a seat that I could use. Things were looking up. But then the guard announced that due to a problem with the train, it would only go as far as Manchester Oxford Road, meaning an extra change. A took a mournful pull on my coffee.
And then I noticed this fellow sitting opposite me. Now, I'm not a big fan of street photography - that is, taking pictures of people without their permission - although I've no real criticism of those who do it: it's just that I'm not comfortable with it. However, I am fine with this practice if I'm taking a photo of a crowd or if the subject's face is excluded from the shot.
And what really struck me here was not the fellow himself but the the list of stations, the magnifying glass, the old cassette tape and the walkman. God, I haven't seen a 'personal hi-fi' like that in years. In fact, I think I used to have one of those, with the graphic EQ but without the radio.
However, I didn't just take this photo because it was a little out of the ordinary but rather because I found this man very affecting. He struck me as one of life's innocents; someone perhaps not particularly... sophisticated but someone who knew what they wanted to do and was getting on with it. And, clearly, enjoying himself, listening to his headphones, looking out of the window, his list of stations in front of him.
This simultaneously induced both a sense of melancholy in me along with an acceptance of the minor inconveniences that the day was throwing at me. And, indeed, I will spare you the further struggles I had with misbehaving buses since they, on balance, seem rather trivial.
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