I don’t normally have that big an issue with the trains, but this past weekend I did.

I had some place to go, someone to see, and it was all arranged to happen earlier than previously so that there would be a bit more time to discuss important matters. But thanks to the engineering work happening that weekend, it didn’t go at all according to plan.

It didn’t exactly help that I got on the wrong train in the first place. If I’d gotten off of that one, and crossed the tracks via the bridge a little quicker, I could have gotten on the train that would have taken me back to my starting point and caught the rail replacement bus to the place I wanted to go a lot sooner than what I managed.

Instead I had to wait for a delayed train back to the beginning and then hop on a very crowded train that had to take an extreme detour. Train surfing is ok, for a wee while, an hour and half has taken it’s toll on my joints, especially with the sudden, unexpected and thus unanticipated jolts.

I met an Australian couple, who where going to spend the rest of the week getting on and off trains in a bid to see the country. All with a broken strap on their very large suitcase. We discussed the recent weather and the problems it had caused to the rail network in the local area. That and the state of the River Severn at the time, which was a tad full. They found a couple of seats, I’m guessing, cos they disappeared after a bit. Then I gained some new fellow surfers, and I wish I hadn’t. A family of three adults and two kids. Although when they charged into my until then, quiet area between carriages, there was some confusion over where the husband was. The mother was yelling up the carriage for Ian, and telling the kids to go find him. Their many bags were chucked about something chronic. I heard all this above the not-that-quietly playing music being pumped into my ears. Then in a moment of lull between tracks, I could hear an announcement over the tannoy for Ian to move to a specific area of the train. It might have been a proper drama if we hadn’t been stationary in Newport for approximately 20 minutes.

I was extremely glad to get off the train in the end. It was made even better by the person I met. Got a hot chocolate for all my woes too.

It wasn’t the end of the train misery for that day, but I didn’t spend the hour waiting for the train back to the station to get the train rail replacement bus to take me home, all alone and cold. Small mercies to hold onto in trying times.