Pity the Rural Traveller

Pity the rural traveller seeking to travel by train to the big cities.

Penalised by outrageous fares he is forced to consider Cheap Day tickets whose late arrival in the city severely eats into the time he can spend there.

Yet in order to get say the 0847 to London from Spigglegate he has to set off by car from his home and drive the 10 or so miles to arrive at the station way before 0800 simply because he has to secure one of the car parking spots in the station car park.

He queues up to buy his ticket from the only one of four sales windows open at that time of the morning to buy his ticket.

The ticket sales machines flash their lights inviting you to leave the queue and fall for their alluring promise to issue tickets in minutes forgetting always to mention that you have to be under five to grasp the complexities of such complicated menus that issue the most high priced of tickets on purpose.

Then armed with his ticket he approaches the automatic ticket barrier again a device so complicated that the train companies post someone there to help you use it defeating the object of saving staff by embracing automation.

Put the ticket in and bump painfully into the barrier, which has stubbornly refused to open.  Call the spotty youth in the badly fitting train company uniform over to ask what’s wrong.

“Ah!”  He says, “You are too early to use this ticket the barrier will not open until 15 minutes before the train arrives.”

Why is it that rural train stations cannot give over more space to car parks?  Is it because they do not want to make the concept of travelling by rail even slightly less depressing than it already is?