An Express Return to Suffolk
I must admit, I did leave a few minutes before the end of the match, but time was tight, if I was to make my taxi home, as he had a later booking to collect someone from Gatwick.
So by 17:14, I was on a London train out of Fratton station.
Waterloo to Liverpool Street is one of those journeys that isn’t the best on the Underground. You can change from Northern to Central at Tottenhsm Court Road, but because I had my case with me, I’d found out before that there was a direct bus; the 26, which stops just outside the back entrance to Waterloo and goes directly to Liverpool Street. It was a good choice, especially as it dropped me at the Bishopsgate entrance at Liverpool Street. I just had time to purchase a ticket from a machine that worked, unlike at Whittlesford, and then board the train.
Admittedly, it was a few minutes late into the station, but the taxi was there and I was watching the television by a quarter to nine. So it was about three and a half hours door-to-door!
The Taxi Problem
For some reason in this country outside of big cities, like London, Edinburgh, Liverpool and others, taxis don’t seem to work very well.
Take where I am now and there are no local taxis, so you have to get one from either Cambridge, Newmarket or Bury St. Edmunds, which makes transport for people like me difficult. I can’t always book and this results in the sort of situation last Saturday in Bury St. Edmunds, where I couldn’t find one and had a very long walk in cold weather, which is probably not to be advised.
last night, I had to get back from Whittlesford and because I wasn’t sure about what would be happening, I hadn’t firmed it up with my usual driver at Sawston Taxis. He did know that I might be coming and I knew that he had a trip to London City Airport in the early evening. So after a couple of texts, he told me that he’d be at the station, but not before 7:30. So I took a train to arrive there about that time and texted him to say I wouldn’t mind waiting a bit. In the end, he was waiting for me as I arrived and it all worked out without pain. In fact, another of his regular clients had also contacted the taxi driver by text and he did a double trip.
The taxi driver used to be an AA repairman and they had a system, that automatically located the nearest guy and sent him to the breakdown.
So the technology is there with GPS, text messaging and computers to organise what we have now a lot better.
Perhaps, what is needed is a UK-wide number for taxis, which gets the nearest professional one to where you want to go. Surely, in this day and age something better can be done rather than what we have now. Unless, you pre-plan it and use someone you trust, you now have to take pot-luck and perhaps end up with a rather tatty one from the rank at the station or phone and say there is no taxi available.
A good system would also allow shared taxis. So say if four people were coming off a particular train, then they would be allocated to a sensible number of cabs in a monetarily and environmentally efficient way.
I’d be interesting to know whether other countries organise things better, so that you have a good value service. A good system, should lower the cost for passengers, but also get a lot more business for the drivers.
Edinburgh’s Transport Systems
Edinburgh is supposed to be one of the big tourist destinations in the world. So it needs to get its public transport up to the standard visitors expect. The buses are just not up to scratch and late and static trams give the wrong message.
I also read in The Scotsman, that the city doesn’t have a big enough dock for the largest cruise ships to berth, so they are losing out to places like Belfast and Liverpool.
Walking around the city is not difficult, but of course there are few maps. Incidentally, my eyesight isn’t good enough to read a paper map in the rain and I suspect that for many visitors to Edinburgh, clear eye level maps are best.
At least though the taxis are reasonably plentiful and affordable. The drivers also give you chapter, verse and every last word about the trams and the buses. But then taxi drivers are the same the world over!
I didn’t use the local trains, but it would appear that they work well! That is if you can find out which bus you catch to get to the station!
How Much Do London Black Cabs Cost?
I am trying to buy a house in London and wondered how much it would cost to get there in a black cab from various parts of the city.
I searched the Internet and found this site. It is excellent!
Home at a Price
I got to Cambridge on time, had time to do food shopping for Sunday lunch in the M&S at the station and then took a taxi home.
But it was a price worth paying for an exciting day! But it does seem wrong, that to get from Cambridge station to my home, cost nearly twice as much as all the rest of the travel. But there is no other way! There isn’t a bus at all between Cambridge Station and the nearest large village. Surely someone, could come up with an Internet-based share taxi service!
London to Den Haag by Train
I was in London last Wednesday and as I was going to Den Haag for the Bank Holiday weekend, I decided to take the Eurostar to Brussels and then take a train direct from there to Den Haag. You can go by Thalys from Brussels to Rotterdam and then take a local train, but it’s actually easier to do what the man in Seat 61 says and take the Belgian/Dutch Intercity train direct from Brussels.
Or it should be?
The problem is that I didn’t have a ticket for the Intercity train and it left about twenty minutes after the Eurostar arrived. Or at least mine did. And it took thirty minutes to buy the ticket in Brussels. They have no automatic machines to do this! Grr!!!
But the Intercity train was comfortable, especially as I took the option of First Class for about 90 euro instead of 60.
Remember that there are two stations in Den Haag; Centraal and HS. The fast trains only go to HS, but you generally want to go to Centraal. On Thursday, it was just a walk across the platform. But I got seriously lost at Centraal, as I couldn’t find the bus station. It’s actually on the top, but the signs are discreet to say the least.
Spot the Sign to the Buses
Coming back was easier, in that I’d decided to spend a few hours in Brussels. So I got an early train to Brussels, dumped my case in a locker and then got a day ticket for the public transport.
The latter should have been easy, but the automatic machines were all broken and it took me about fifteen minutes to queue for a ticket. What is it about Belgians and selling tickets.
The Eurostar got me back in to London on time and in fact I was able to get to Whittlesford Parkway on an earlier train. But my excellent taxi driver, Michael, from Sawston Taxis was there to take me home in comfort. He is to be recommended.
A Day at the Hospital
I spent Thursday morning at Addenbrooke’s.
They did an ultrasound and found that I had one and that it gave good pictures. Why don’t they tell you there and then? I suspect that if it had been missing or badly faulty, they’d have called the Crash Team or whatever and locked me in a darkened room.
I then found out that they wanted to fit a ECG monitor on me to record the heart for some hours. So I got part of my chest shaved and the electrodes were glued on. I thought for a moment that horror of horrors, I wouldn’t be able to tuck my shirt in, but the nurse knew how to get the wires to my shirt pocket.
At least I had a lady to drive me about. She’s one of my old work colleagues, who’s married to another ex-pat Scot and work colleague, sheltering from the cold-up north in East Anglia. We went to Waitrose and then had a decent lunch. Pleased to see to, that the Star now sells Aspalls. A reason for going!
It’s only now that I realise how difficult it is living here without a car. The taxi from Cambridge on Wednesday night cost £40. It’s not the money, but I just think it’s extortionate.
How to Repossess an Aeroplane
I found this story on Popbitch.
It just shows that there are some funny jobs in this world.
But it also reminds me of a story about how to repossess a taxi, when the borrower is behind on the payments. You may know where he lives, but then you can never be sure whether he is in and if he knows you’re after him, he’s probably got the car and his livelihood securely locked away elsewhere.
So you go to a pub on an anonymous housing estate and phone his firm for a taxi. You say that you always have X and are prepared to wait. The firm are always happy to oblige if he’s working. If not, you say forget it.
Now taxi drivers usually pull up on the pub forecourt, leave the engine running and run into the pub shouting something like “Taxi for the Station”.
When they do, you just get in the taxi and drive away.
Cambridge to Nice by Train
I was dropped at Cambridge early, as since my stroke I get almost paranoid about missing anything. It’s probably that I’m insecure. But then I always was a bit! I’m just moreso now. But I really had no worries as my credit card and the reference number from Eurostar got the tickets issues without any fuss.
The outcome was that I got the 7:15 out of Cambridge instead of the 7:45 and sat comfortably in First Class. I should say that the extra two single tickets from Kings Cross to Cambridge cost me just £15 for the pair. And as I’m travelling First all the way to Nice, I get First to London. First Capital Connect are not always praised for their service and punctuality, but I had no problems and arrived in London on time.
But of course it was into the main station at Kings Cross, rather than the old surburban one which is just a short walk from St. Pancras International.
Kings Cross Station
As I knew I had a fully flexible ticket, was thirty minutes early and I had to pick my tickets up from the station, I decided to see if I could catch an earlier train. It’s the paranoia again, as I was rather worried that I might miss the connection in Paris, so a few extra minutes might be welcome.
Let’s say the flexible ticket worked and instead of being on the 9:32, I was on the 8:55. But I was told there might be a problem with my gluten-free meal, so would I mention it at the gate. I think the paranoia ruled the stomach and I preferred to be early and hungry, rather than full and late. It was just as well.
The guy on the gate made a note and said that he’d try to get it sorted.
He did and the first thing the steward said when I boarded was that they had the gluten-free breakfast.
That in itself felt that at least someone was looking after me!
The trip was uneventful and I tried yet again to take a picture of the Dartford Bridge from the train. At least this time I was ready for it, not like when I took the journey a couple of months ago on a Javelin.
Dartford Bridge from Eurostar
The only other new feature of note on the English side of the Channel is the station at Stratford. For my liking it is too stark and nothing but concrete at the moment. Surely not something for the entrance point to the London 2012 Olympics. But then, I suspect it hasn’t been properly finished and a good bit of colour helps most things.
On the other side of the Channel the train rolled along as it should across the flat open countryside of Northern France.
Flat France
You can understand why they didn’t have much trouble building this high speed line, as except for Lille, it missed out all the towns and villages. But then France has a lot more space than we do.
Gare du Nord, Paris
I arrived on time into Gare du Nord or Gare Nord, as they call it now, and had ninety minutes or get to the Gare de Lyon. I had been intending to take a taxi, but as I had the extra time I took the RER D from under the station.
It was a wise choice.
A young lad about eighteen or so was by the ticket machines, dressed in a vest which said that he was there to help. He showed me how to use the machines and told me that I needed track 44. Paris is certainly trying to make sure that they welcome visitors! But then tourism is a cut-throat business these days and personal service is something that always works.
Paris RER
Note the double deck! Will Crossrail be that way? I doubt it.
Gare de Lyon, Paris
But then I had an hour to spend in the Gare de Lyon.
Le Train Bleu, Gare de Lyon, Paris
Le Train Bleu Restaurant, that evokes pre-war travel and glamour, is still there, although it does have an Express version as well. Perhaps, we don’t have as much time as we used to.
The station is being upgraded and probably not before time, as such as St. Pancras, Milan, Berlin and even dear old Liverpool Street show that a good station creates the right experience.
The train left on time for the long haul to Nice. To say it is a large train would be an understatement. It is two TGV Duplex or double-deck units coupled together. Short of a boat, it must be one of the largest people carriers around. According to Wikipedia each set carries 545 people.
You do wonder about trains though!
A friend is joining me at Nice for a few days and they have just phoned me from Lyon. Their plane has diverted there because is on the ground there because of mist at Nice! Do I hear herds of thundering tortoises?
Now I’m the tortoise, as the train threads its slow way through Toulon and all stations to Nice. Not the best.
Neither was the snack I got. Despite asking several times in my worst French, I ended up with a fish thing clearly labelled gluten. So I picked out a few bits of fish and potatoes and left the rest. I hope I’m OK. Why didn’t the silly woman show me the packet and I could have read it?
We’re barely walking pace at the moment and my friend has just arrived in Nice. Perhaps this train is always late, as it was the last time I caught it. That was between Antibes and Nice in 2007 on one of the last holidays with my late wife. It seemed strange to use it as a local train then, but everybody does.
Still the countryside is all green and it’s sunny.
TGV Duplex Arrives at Nice
Finally we arrived in Nice about a quarter of an hour late.
And then I got ripped off by the taxi driver.
Who cares? There are worse things in life! But it’s probably why I avoid them like the plague.
The Anonymous Widower 