Weekend review, the trains! THE TRAINS.

The thought occurred to me I should probably start chronicling my adventures. If anything so I can read them and relive when I head back to the US. Primarily so I don't become a needy windbag and start abusing the time and hospitality of my friends back home.

Friday didn't start out well. I left work early in an attempt to be home by 6:00pm. All seemed well until we hit the signal box outside Walkden. Then we stopped.

And stopped.

The conductor told us '10 more minutes' until a half an hour passed. Two women came from the back of the train in a fury. One was claustrophobic, the other concerned about leaving her office. In tandem they chewed out the train driver, while a bunch of middle aged women near me snickered at duo's demands to walk along the tracks.

There are two types of behavior you see when things like this happen. The first is supposed wizened indifference, as evidenced by the older ladies. They're used to the trains failing and believe there is nothing you can do about it, so you suck it up. It's the typically English way to go about public transport. They tend to be quite cruel to people, generally new to the whole process, who are immediately infuriated at the incompetence of the whole system.

Those newcomers are the second types. They're the ones who just started jobs, or college, or moved to the area. The ones that are learning how to commute, learning how the system works. They're the ones that get angry and want to hold people accountable. What they quickly learn is no matter how much earache you give the train companies and their call centres, the best you'll get is a 10 pound voucher. That's even if the toilets are out of order on a 3 hour journey.

Train late beyond the 8 minutes and 30.57830 seconds? 10 pounds. Broken down train on the Wigan via Atherton line? 10 pounds. Cancelled connection where you have to sleep at Crewe for the evening? 10 pounds. Train run over your first born and dog? 10 pounds and an interview in The Sun.

Network Rail operate under the delusion that it's enough.

On Friday, Mr. Me could see the problem (for once,) a broken down train at Atherton station was causing a bit of a pile up. It wasn't moving. The brakes wouldn't release.

Eventually we pushed forward to Walkden station for about 10 minutes. I smoked a few cigarettes in direct rebellion of the new railway by laws and got back on. 10 minutes turned into 30. We finally arrived at Atherton at 7:15 pm, an hour and 10 minutes after we were supposed to.

According to the Ticket Collector this is happening everywhere even today. Though you wouldn't know by reading the supposed advocate for the people Passenger Focus's blog. (Actually, the whole site seems pretty crap.)

This type of thing? Pretty par for the course. Makes me long for MAX and Tri-Met.