Buying tickets is painfully expensive, even with a railcard. I once forgot my railcard and it was cheaper to buy another one than it was to top up my ticket price. Fortunately I get so scared of missing my train, I generally arrive at the station a solid hour in advance of the expected departure time, so I had ample time to spend £6 (what an annoying number) on passport photos and £30 on a laminated bit of card, made more frustrating by the fact that I knew I had both at home. Usually though, I do not have anything to do in my hour-long wait. I get a coffee from an un-named coffee house and then sit/perch/lean on whatever I can find on the platform. The last train I got was running 27 minutes late. That means I was sitting on the platform for 1 hour and 27 minutes. As a general rule, when the train pulls into the station, human empathy is dismissed and I now know the true meaning of “it’s a dog eat dog world”. I try my best to avoid the kafuffle of suitcases/prams/babies/people ramming themselves into a carriage all at once (type ‘Japanese train station during rush hour’ into youtube). Stress continues for a short while as the seat reservations are invariably out of order, there is no space whatsoever in the luggage racks and even walking down the aisle seems to parody that funny youtube video of a cat getting stuck in a jumper sleeve. I am one of the lucky/sensible ones, who always books a seat. And you’d think that once you were sitting down the stress would be over. Well, it’s generally not. I always seem to end up sitting next to that inconsiderate commuter who eats egg sandwiches and doritos whilst drinking coffee and talking very loudly into their snazzy phone and tapping away at a stupid little mini-computer – whose screen can hardly even be seen – or worse, an iPad. Normally I end up in a backwards facing seat. A noisy child is never far away. Sometimes they have siblings. I am also constantly terrified that I will miss my stop and am sometimes too scared to listen to music in case I fall asleep, despite the fact that my train journey is about 4 hours long. I am also scared I will miss my connection. When I don’t miss my connection (which is always, as I have never actually missed it), I get scared I will get a train going in the opposite direction to Bath, and always have to say a little prayer that I am on the right train. Nervous anticipation ensues. So far though, I have never got on the wrong train, and have always made it home in some manner or other, even if I did once get a lift with a stranger. But that will be a story for another day because I should probably get back to my revision.
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