How to approach a British train in the winter.
By: Genevieve Jenner
Tags: Travel, London, Britain, Trains, Expectations

It is never like Brief Encounter.

I strolled over to Paddington to catch my train and saw blank boards. Blank boards are never good things. I had been visiting a fantastic book shop, and having tea with a friend and was in a very cheerful state about the world, and now I had to take a deep breath and adjust my expectations. (By the way if you are in London and want to view amazing rare books by women and just talk to some really smart and interesting women about books go to Second Shelf in Soho.) There had been a signal failure between Paddington and Reading. For about three hours things had been a state of stasis. This is not fun for anyone. I chatted with a customer service person who said, “Actually things should be okay soon. Wait about 15 minutes.” I thanked them and offered sympathy. Because EVERY single person I have ever met who works for the assorted railways just wants to get people to where they are going and sometimes they are powerless to the things that go on. Weather, signal failures, and the interference of the human race are the great hurdles for railway employees. But they do want to help and move things along. They did offer some help to the various stranded folks. First Great Western had a gent with a tea trolley serving up tea to people. It was very very cold that day in London and it had been snowing. England is a funny place. It doesn’t get Siberian cold that often but the cold in general sits in your bones and you slowly begin to lose the will to live. Or at least you want to complain about it, while perusing cheap holidays to places that offer the promise of garish drinks and the opportunity to shed the layers of cardigans that makes up fashion in the dark months in Northern Europe.

There are a few methods for managing this state of being. One can find a warm body to stick close to. The preferred bodies are an amusing person in a soft jumper that you can pet, a couple of snoozing cats, or a large dog who is hoping that you are weak of will and might provide snacks. The most perfect combination is Tom Hardy reading you a story while a dog is sleeping on your feet but these options are difficult to obtain in a train station.

You can also cuddle a hot water bottle, and sip whisky. It certainly lessens any anxiety one might have about waiting for any available train. I DID have a bottle of wine in my bag but I didn’t think that was the meal I needed as I did have to drive home from the train station. (And I lacked a corkscrew.) I went and bought cocoa, and a large bacon bap. (No sauce please, I am trying to make it through the day without getting some condiment on my dress and sometimes we have to make a few sacrifices to feign the appearance of organised adulthood.) With WiFi and patience I waited, and hot diggity dog my train was right on time. Mind you there were three trains worth of people who wanted to get on that train. There was the energy that gave the impression that the invading hordes were on their way and one must get on this train even if it meant leaving behind Grandmere’s limoges china, and the nearly new Packard bought just last year.

I lucked out and got a seat in the quiet carriage. The only drawback: no heating in the quiet carriage. We hardy souls who like not listening to phone conversations put up with it. I was wearing my fur trimmed coat, my red suede gloves and huddled in my seat. (I would take off one glove and look at things on my phone, and then trade to the other side when my hand began to reach that Bohemian slowly dying in an attic in Paris level of cold.)People who were a little more familiar with each other were cuddling. Maybe I could have done that with the gentleman in tweeds across the aisle as our coats kind of matched but I wasn’t feeling THAT forward. This is the Quiet carriage and we don’t impose upon others. Though the man who kept sighing heavily was walking a very dangerous line.

We did make extra stops along the way as there were people to drop off. It was less of a train service and more of a casual carpool, with many needs to consider. Sometimes you just gotta get real zen with the trains in Britain. The nation chose mediocrity for its infrastructure and so we shall get to our destination when the universe sees fit.

At least it wasn’t like the time when the train ran out of tea.