The Pain Train: The Travelling Checklist.

So if you don’t know, I live in the land of the lost – by that I mean the countryside.

I live in a small little town – recently relocated from a city – so as you can imagine,  there is an extreme lack of activities. By lack I mean none. So for me, my adventures begin back in my home town.

It isn’t New York or London but it’s enough. By enough I mean, there is food, there is coffee and there are people under the age of 80. Not saying there’s anything wrong with the fresh seaside air and the constant smell of freshly cut grass but the constant smell of horse shit and lack of any human life within a 5 mile radius, on the balance of probabilities the bad outweighs the good.

My weekends or free periods are consumed by travel. If I want to get places, public transport is literally the only way. If you’re asking why this is I’ll tell you. I’m 22 and I can’t drive – not cool at all.

Anyway, we all know what i’ts like knowing you’ll be training it for a few hours. We need that very important checklist to prep beforehand.

So this post is about the all important travelling checklist!

train 2

T R A I N T I M E S

So we’ve got the train times( almost in an instant thanks to the net). Now I don’t know if you’re like me  but I need to check them at least 50 times,  mentally screenshot them , write them down, text them to myself and  write them on my hand – you get the gist. I have this huge fear of missing my train or doubting myself – like did I read it correctly? Has it changed in last 5 mins? It’s one of those things. You’re certain you’re 100% sure of the time but one more check won’t hurt right?

You’re thinking, that’s cool  that isn’t a problem.  But picture this:  you’re in the town and don’t have wifi. So the data gets turned on and off for at least 50 thousand times taking at least 5 days to load. Uurrchh, the ritual is painful.“Why, sometimes I've believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast.” (1)

T I C K E T S

So we’ve got the train times and now we need the ticket. So I always buy online – I find I can get better deals and it minimises the on-the-day travel. So I enter my details over and over and then it refreshes because I didn’t put my security pin in or I didn’t select my address from the drop down list. Christ. Then all of your details get wiped out because apparently when it refreshes it loses its fucking mind. You know when you have to smile to yourself, suck in some air, hold your breath and then pause because you know if you don’t clear your mind in that few milliseconds – the mac is going out the window.

Anyway it works, you’ve got your ticket ordered and sent through to your email. Perfect. Done complete.

Except when you go to get your ticket the next day from those oh-so-trusty ticket “Why, sometimes I've believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast.” (2).pngmachines (e.g. the heeps of shit that are about 200 years old) it doesn’t recognise your reference number. Oh lord kill me now. But you’ve got it covered right, because you’ve already anticipated this moment.  You’ve planned it. You’ve already taken a pic of your ref number, you’ve written it on your hand, you’ve text it to yourself and mentally screenshotted it. So its fine. You show the office your ref, they accept, you get the tickets you stop shitting yourself.

 

P R E   T R A I N  T I M E

Ok so then you’ve got a spare ten mins before your train. You decide to go grab a coffee. My local in-station coffee bar happens to be a gourmet coffee bar(fancy isn’t it). You order your cappuccino, latte whatever you please. The barista decides to take it upon herself to decorate your coffee with everything known to man.  Its gourmet right so the correct temperature is essential and the pouring of the milk is vital to its texture blah blah blah.

What feels like 5000 years later shes still pottering around, cleaning the machine as she goes. Like bitch I have 2 mins to get my train just give me my damn coffee. At this point your sweating because you don’t want to be rude ( in Britain, losing your manners is like social suicide- people will literally mob you). So you fight your need to reach out and punch a bitch, so you bite your tongue and start thinking about how fast your gunna need to run to get your train. All this excess weight, the 5 kilogram bag and a boiling hot coffee pounding through the station like a fat sweaty mess. For fuck sake. Think nice thoughts, think nice thoughts.

Finally. She passes it over – of course you smile, your British. You thank her for your time and you run for your shitting life.

train 4

T H E   P L A T F O R M   P R O C E S S

You’re frantically looking for the train as you reach the platform.  You’ve hopped on the train faster than you blink. You sit down and your free. You’ve made it.

Now I don’t know about you but a story never ends that happily but as I’m probably boring you to death I’ll stop there. But before I end with an abrupt ‘what-was-the-point-in-that-story‘ I’ll leave you with this.

I walked off the train before my stop because…

I DIDN’T GET ON THE RIGHT FUCKING TRAIN IN THE FIRST PLACE.

This is another style of writing to enjoy in free time. I love the ‘girly’ style writing – think Bridget Jones Diary. I hope you enjoy. If you have any comments i would love to here them!

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