This past weekend I’ve been in Glasgow. I planned to go a while ago, to explore, take photos, hang out with Fiona and write lots of content for you guys. I had my train tickets booked, an Air B n B sorted, and vague plans for what I wanted to do made (basically nice food and street art hunting, and Kelvingrove Museum) Then on Wednesday night I checked my exact train times for Friday…and discovered that my first train was cancelled due to a Northern Rail train strike. Balls.
Now, as an ex trade union official I 100% support workers’ right to strike, and I am NOT in any way blaming the staff. I’m blaming the company, who have made the staff have no option but to strike. I’ve nearly taken one of my branches out, I know first hand how many steps you go through before you even get to balloting for strike action. And strikes are MEANT to cause problems, that’s kind of the point. From my point of view, though-it meant I couldn’t physically get to my connecting train.
So I had a little panic, spoke to Fiona and decided I’d have to drive up-though this would cost me more money and my Air B n B accomodation didn’t have parking. I’d booked somewhere central as I was getting the train up. Luckily, my host gave me a street about 5 minutes walk away where I could park for free, Fiona gave me a location I could meet her on the Friday, and off I went.
Annoyingly, the first 3 miles of my journey took me an hour. This put me back to the point where I thought I was going to be late to meet Fiona from work, though I did catch up some of that time later. Good old M62 and it’s terrible accident ratio, and high percentage of rubberneckers means most journeys around here can be a nightmare. I finally got to Glasgow though and I really enjoyed the drive, and it meant I didn’t have to take my suitcase around Glasgow with me. Every cloud and all that! My only gripe with the change of plan is that, unlike here where I might have a cocktail with lunch if I knew I wasn’t driving for hours and hours, in Scotland the drink drive limit is zero, so I couldn’t have a drink at any point. It doesn’t ruin my day, it’s just a shame.
The very best thing about my having to take my car is that I was able to drive around on the Friday and Saturday evenings after Fiona went home-and ALL of the street art on this post (some in Paisley, some around the corner from my Air B n B, where I took a wrong turning) I wouldn’t have seen without the car. Maybe everything happens for a reason! I’m also pleased to say that because I booked my tickets through The Train Line, they are refunding me in full. Phew! And none of this was as bad as last years Easyjet nightmare.
Have you had travel plans go wrong? How did you fix them?