I have a fascination for
public transport. I am enthralled by the microcosms of society that populate
our transport systems.
I am not a lover of
crowds, so I don’t enjoy the hustle and bustle. However, I enjoy the sitting
and watching. The watching and waiting.
Watching all of these
people, with different stories, different lives, different missions, different
objectives, different reasons, for making their way to or from somewhere.
Meeting new people. Leaving
old people. Making friends. Parting with relatives. Travelling for work, for
pleasure, for relaxation, or for a purpose.
It is most fascinating.
And it doesn’t matter if
this is at the railway station, at the bus stop, at the airport or on the
Underground. If you stop to think of the myriads of thoughts and deeds, wishes
and aspirations, that these people are thinking and doing, it is intriguing,
captivating and riveting. Each story different to the next, but interlinked and
entwined, brought together by the need to move from one place to another.
Let me give you a for
instance;
Sit on the platform at
most railway stations and watch the opposite platform. It is like watching a
play. The scene is set, our passengers merely players in this production. The sweeping
form of a Virgin Trains Pendolino service, draws to halt, this is the curtain
closing at the end of act one. What scenes await us as the Euston to Birmingham
service pulls out on time? Gently, almost silently drawing away from the
platform to reveal our stage. The scene is set. The platform is the same, but
yet the story is different. Our players have changed. We have a new cast.
We see young mothers wrestling
with buggy and child.
Tourists, with laden
luggage trying to decipher signs.
Business men and women
striding forth, intent on making their next connection, or getting to the
office on time. They have made this journey countless times; they know which
carriage to sit in, which exit to take, the quickest route, to meet their
transport objective.
People with bicycles.
Giggling schoolgirls huddling together. Young behooded passengers, with iPods
in. More technically minded passengers with iPads out.
It is a constantly
changing scene. A scene that changes with every passing train. With every
different passenger, playing out their part, in their own little play.
All you need to do is just
watch.
The play is very different
on the London Underground. You don’t get much chance to sit and watch. With the
Underground you need to join in. It is an experimental play, with audience
participation. You are carried along with the action, in this improvised,
balletic, operatic, fast paced performance.
However, it is still that
ever changing diorama of people and places. Each with a different story to
tell. Sometime the same story as yesterday. For some, the same story for years
on end. Those world weary work passengers trudging their way to and from the
city.
It is fascinating to
journey around the Tube, I could wax lyrical for hours about the history of the
London Underground, it is a totally different world, all of its own down there.
Since its inception with the opening of the Metropolitan Railway in 1863,
right up to the present day.
It is a massive, ever
involving, ever improving transport system, loved by many, loathed by more. Regardless
of which, it manages to shuffle millions of passengers around nearly 300 miles
of track and 270 stations. (Interesting point, about 55% of the Underground, is
actually above ground).
Onto another form of
transport now, one much closer to me, but not necessarily my heart; the bus.
I have to take the bus fairly
regularly to get to and from work. I like the bus, but, I refer you to a point
I made earlier, I do not like crowds. And there is nothing worse than a crowded
bus. That is why I like to take an early bus and escape that torturous adventure
that is travelling with students and the hoi-polloi. (Excuse the snobbery, it
is not intended).
School children and
students are the worst! Noisy, excitable, ignorant, rude and God forbid, they
put their feet up on the seats!
I try to avoid journeys at
school times.
Instead, I prefer to share
my journey quietly, with a little music provided by an mp3 player and be joined
by those work weary early travellers, heading off to their place of work,
silently, enjoying the calm before the storm. The nurse, with uniform awkwardly
worn under her coat. The factory worker, a copy of the Metro under his arm,
tatty rucksack slung over his shoulder and a roll up ready, perched precariously
behind his ear. These are the people I like to share my journey with, quiet
individuals, intent on staying awake whilst travelling the few miles of their
journey. Obeying that unwritten rule of public transportation; of not making
eye contact, unless of course, God forbid, you need to sit next to each other!
If that’s the case then
the bus is getting too busy! And the panic sets in. Will I be able to reach the
bell before my stop? Will there be easy, unimpeded access to the exit, to
alight safely? Will I have to say “excuse me” to get off? See? I don’t like
crowds!
For all my small
misgivings of sharing transport with others, I much prefer it to driving in my
car. For one, at the end of the journey you don’t have to find somewhere safe
to leave your vehicle, the driver will do that. There is no worry about
parking. Is there any? Do I have any change? No, just hop on that bus, train or
tube and let the public transport system do the rest for you.
Enjoy our public transport
systems, use them, don’t abuse them. If more people used public transport and
it became more integrated, it would be a marvellous spectacle to behold.
An interesting, ever
changing, romantic, busy, constantly fluctuating landscape that is on your
doorstep, should you care to use it.
