We Don’t know how lucky we are

Thanks for your emails that I received following my first column last month. Mrs Collingwood from Gateshead wrote to me to express her dismay at our public transport system, namely the bus services, or the lack of them, and fare increases on the Metro. On a recent trip to London I had time to compare our beloved Metro System to that of the London Underground. Your journey starts by wrestling yourself through the masses of people congregating on the upper concourse to simply buy a ticket. You have two options. If you know where you are going and how much to pay you can queue up at one of the many machines, the second option join a long snaking queue at the ticket office. When you have managed to get to the end of your respective line (waiting time can vary 5-15 minutes) you are then faced with a whole host of problems.

First you have to fathom out the complicated map. You must then find a machine that (a) works (b) accepts your money (c) gives change. Frustrating? Too right! I’m not even on the platform yet and already my blood pressure is critical and I’m sweating profusely. With my ticket in hand I make my way to the infamous barriers dodging the various beggars with their bottles of cider asking for ‘spare change guv’nor’. The barriers work on the same principle as the metro barriers used to. You place your ticket in the slot. The computer checks it and either lets you through to the escalator and stairs or, as often happens it leaves you standing like a lemon with another queue forming rapidly behind you. To be fair the staff are always on hand to let you through but this just adds to the embarrassment and mayhem.

Having breached the barriers by whatever method you can, you face the long trek to the platform. It makes a trek across the Gobi desert seem like a Sunday morning walk as you go down one escalator, then another, turn left, right, left again, down a set of stairs and then your final set of escalators. You are at least given entertainment. The authorities encourage buskers to perform. On this particular day it was a man playing the spoons. Not quite as talented as the old blind busker who used to play outside Fenwicks in Newcastle City Centre! As you reach platform level you are faced with yet more barriers. Once through you finally reach the platform.

If you are a stranger in London it doesn’t take you long to get to know someone. You are packed in like sardines on the narrow platform awaiting the next tin to climb inside. It is little wonder that pick pockets make such a living on this dated system. The trains are more regular than our beloved Metro but once aboard there is not the relaxed friendly atmosphere that we have up North. People sit stand or crouch in silence. Weird! The trains are literally unbearable in rush hour which is why many visit the pub after work until the rush dies down. As you reach the end of your journey you have no time to relax. You have more escalators barriers and beggars to negotiate before you can breathe fresh air once again.

We may have problems with our public transport system in the North East , but compared to London we don’t know how lucky we are.

If you would like to contact me or suggest a topic for the column e-mail me at thegeordieconnection@hotmail.com or write to me at the usual address.