Being 'understanding' is a two way street
Today I can only speak about the immovability, jobs-worth and sheer lack of understanding demonstrated by the train operators. An attitude illustrated by a battle for reason on Monday, misery on Tuesday and a potentially life-threatening situation on Wednesday.
There is very definitely one rule for the train companies and one rule for the rest of us.
Last Monday I planned to catch the 10.45 to Newbury, via Exeter, for a meeting. The train was thirty five minutes late into Plymouth and it soon became clear that we would probably miss the Exeter connection – by about a minute. The train manager told me that the only alternative was to wait fifty minutes on Exeter station for a train to Reading, then Newbury, or to travel to Bristol, (the opposite direction!) in order to do the same thing. I realised I would be far too late and may as well go home again. “Isn't it possible for the train to be held for one minute at Exeter?” I asked. “I can't be alone in needing that connection?” He agreed that I was one of at least ten people but that “the train companies are all fighting this morning, it's not worth trying.” I was asked to try to be “understanding”.
As Charles Howeson, Non-Exec Director of First Great Western was in First Class, I rather cheekily suggested that perhaps he might be “understanding”. The thought of the boss spotting a crowd of angry 'dis-connected' passengers fuming on Exeter station prompted action: when we arrived the connecting train was still waiting. I made my meeting and a dozen or so other 'connected' passengers continued their journeys.
The following day I went to Newbury station for the 9.10 train home. It was delayed by fifty minutes, then cancelled. Major signal failure at Didcot had sent the network into chaos. A Plymouth train eventually arrived, carrying several trainloads worth of passengers and I stood for most of the three hour journey. It wasn't the end of the world, yet I couldn't help thinking of the sixty pounds I'd paid for the joy of backache. But I tried to be 'understanding'.
On Wednesday our son went to catch the train home from Leamington Spa where he'd been visiting his sister. His Dad had driven him up, and he had his train ticket for two specific connecting trains, but on arrival at the station for the journey home found he didn't have his railcard. Being honest, he explained the situation to a very understanding ticket collector – rare indeed – who suggested that he buy another railcard in Birmingham rather than miss the first train. This, he explained, would validate the ticket for both trains in question and would be cheaper than buying another one at full price. But the first train arrived in Birmingham late, leaving just ten minutes to get passport photographs and a second railcard. While our son was still queuing, the second train left for Plymouth, leaving him stranded without a valid ticket and unable to afford the new £76 full single train fare. Train company staff showed no understanding, so he walked across the city to the coach station only to find that he had missed the last coach to Plymouth – in mid-afternoon! – by twenty minutes. Returning to Birmingham New Street he tried to reason with ticket office staff. Could his Mum buy one on the phone? No. Could he pay the difference between his first ticket and the second? No. Full fare, £76 it was – or no way home. No sympathy. No “understanding”. No resolution. Thankfully he went away and worked out that he had just enough cash in his bank account to cover the £76 fare. If that hadn't been the case, he would have had to contact me to arrange a travel permit at Plymouth station – which might not have happened until the last train had left Birmingham. If it had been the night before, when I was away in Newbury, I wouldn't have been able to do that and wouldn't even have been able to reach him by car. Instead he would have been left alone, without money and pretty vulnerable in a city he doesn't know.
As a sensible, streetwise, eighteen-year old: he coped. What upset him most was the harsh response he got to his polite enquiries. And he'll learn. It was the first and hopefully the last time he'll travel without his railcard – and I accept that rules are rules. What angers me most is the immovability – and inhumanity-of those rules. Rules which allow no workable, compassionate understanding of the possible consequences for vulnerable young people who inadvertently find themselves stranded in an unknown city hundreds of miles from home.
I have written to the train companies asking them to ensure that no young person need be in this position. Of course any compassionate response will be open to abuse, but there must be a way. Couldn't a central database carry a password that could tally with ID given by the traveller? Why couldn't I purchase a ticket for my son on the 'phone? I can do it at any other time! Other train companies manage good customer car, why not those which serve the South West?
It seems that our rail companies can make as many mistakes en route as they like and we're supposed to be “understanding”: a young man makes his first and “understanding” goes out of the train window.
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