Author Information
Passenger Enquiries.
Folder:
Bern's Prose.
Passenger Enquiries.
The man at the Enquiry Office was very polite when I asked for the times of trains going down to South Wales. A Train was leaving Paddington at eleven thirty in the morning and that suited me fine. I decided to have my haircut and then on to the station at Paddington.
I arrived at the Hairdressers with my suitcase. Most Hairdressers are nosey people and this one was no exception. As soon as I sat in his chair he started off a monologue about travelling in strange countries. He himself would never leave England of his own free will. Right through my short back and sides he carried on non-stop. Trains should be banned for some obscure reason that children are encouraged to leave home by taking a long trip on a train; he could not stand the smells coming from other people that are travelling it would be the death of him. He finished cutting and combing my hair, I paid him and went to leave the shop. His words were just too funny. “You did not say where you are going did you now?" " No I did not I could not get a word in edgeways you spoke none stop for an hour while cutting my hair."
A Taxi took me to the station at Paddington, as I entered the platform I heard a whistle blow and the engine let off a low moaning signal and the train jerked and slowly moved away from me. Taking my note from my pocket I looked at the times. Either the enquiry office had given me the wrong time or I had written it down wrong. The next train to South Wales was at four o’clock in the afternoon.
I had nothing to do and sauntered around the railway station. Like most main line stations there was no rubbish lying around the rubbish bins had all been emptied but the station looked dismal not the place to have to spend much time. I noticed the small tea and coffee bar and decided to have a cup of tea it might cheer me up. A young woman served me a cup of sweet tea and remarked that there was not much doing on this day not many people travelled on a Wednesday. On Fridays the Station was always full of People going to the South West or down to Wales. I paid for my tea and walked out with my usual, have a nice day now. I walked over to the newsagents and bought myself some magazines to read. The Enquiries Office caught my eye and I decided to go in and ask who had given me the wrong time for the train going to South Wales.
The enquiries office was well lit and a row of men and women sat behind a long table each with a telephone in front of him or her. I entered and with a loud, “Good Afternoon,” all. A man came and asked how he could be of help. I told him about my enquiry over the phone and showed him the piece of paper that I had written the times of departure down on. The man called out who gave information of trains down to South Wales yesterday. The smiles and laughter from all sitting in front of a phone should have told me that this was a silly question to ask people that had for the good Lord knows how long and how often they had given information over the phone. Lifting my hat I told the man that I had spoken to not to bother; I could see that all were very busy and left the enquiry office with a very red face. I heard the laughter in my ears and left the station to walk around Paddington until it was time to board the train.
The Journey down to South Wales was uneventful and we arrived at Cardiff on time. The local train had waited for the train from London and there was enough time to board the local slow train that eventually chugged its way up into the Rhondda Valley. I spent a happy week walking in the Welsh Mountains and went back to my home in London feeling very refreshed. Until yesterday I had forgotten the Enquiry Office and it was only after thinking of something to write about that I remembered it again.
