Coils

It’s all gone rather quiet. Services on the Piccadilly ‘twixt beautiful Ruislip and the heart of darkness, aka Hammersmith, have settled down. Frequency and reliability are back to the standards of last summer when I made far fewer claims for delays than in the past. This is not to say the service is a particularly high standard – a ten minute gap this morning with at least one Piccadilly cancelled shows that. But all things are relative.

Ruislip Manor station continues to be a builder’s tip – what do they do all day, these men with their JCBs and colony of Portakabins? Some coils of wire have appeared adorning each of the metal poles on which the station lights are mounted. Maybe they will be used to hoist some brightly coloured bunting to cheer us up in these dark January days. Or to put in a loudspeaker system? That would be a waste of time. No useful announcements are ever made at this station – there are almost no staff to do them. Today there was a plaintive message on the information board that tells you about delays – it read “Unable to display information – our computer is down”. Quite out of the question for anyone on the staff to phone for info, of course.

One blessing is that there are no advertising hoardings but no doubt they will return. Meanwhile those of us pacing up and down (thanks to unannounced ten minute gaps, see above) can at least admire the view.

Rucksacks

These people with rucksacks are a real nuisance. They take up so much extra space and it can be hard to squeeze past. Take this morning, when I attempted to leave a crowded Piccadilly train at Baron’s Court. Two young men each with a rucksack stood near the door. I had to push and dodge to get past, and then nearly fell over a bag someone had carefully placed on the floor.

The fact that I too carry a rucksack is neither here nor there, your honour, and I move that this be struck from the record. [objection: Ed]

Happy 2006

A new year begins [1] and once again I have been asked [2] to write a few words…

• [1] Yes I know this is January 9th but some of us have been on holiday. An extended Christmas break including three days in the fair city of Bath communing with the Roman remain and the ghost of Ms Jane Austen, if you must know.


• [2] This is a lie. I took this onerous duty on myself

Yes, where was I? A few words to greet 2006. It’s my first day back at work and there is a strike on the tube. How appropriate is that? Actually it is the RMT union taking “action” and it seems to be only some station staff who have walked out, closing about 25 stations. They struck over New Year’s Eve as well and hit 45 stations so it seems that they are losing support. It didn’t affect me this morning so I can’t claim to be too bothered.

At least the weather is warming up and the days can only get lighter and longer so we have something to look forward to, until we get 2cm of snow and everything comes to a complete halt in the time-honoured English, “blimey what’s that white stuff, better stop the trains at once” tradition.

And as I prepare to leave, what is this on the Transport for London website? – yes, “severe delays” on the Piccadilly line tonight. Welcome back. Its business as usual.

Back to normal (?)

Celebrations are in order. Let beer flow in the fountains. Let flags unfurl and fireworks ignite. The westbound platform at my home station, Ruislip Manor, has opened after six months of rebuilding and my journey from work is back to what it used to be.
There is a notice at the station congratulating the builders on finishing early. Actually they are only a few days early and there is still work in progress on both platforms. Now, just to be grouchy, here are several reasons why congratulations are not in order.

• No disabled access. They could have put in a lift or ramps. They did nothing. The station remains inaccessible to wheelchair users and hard for anyone with pushchairs and the like


• The awful shelters on the platforms. Inadequate. Almost no protection from the elements. And though there are seats on the platforms, there are none under the shelters. So if it rains you can sit and get wet or stand (and probably get wet). But not sit in comfort.


• No information. South Harrow has a nice electronic display board and it only has Piccadilly trains. Metropolitan and Piccadilly trains run through Ruislip Manor and we are told nothing and must continue to wait in ignorance.


• Destruction of trees. Many fine trees stood behind the platforms, especially eastbound where they effectively screened the station from the houses. We were promised that they would be replanted. When? The eastbound side has been a builder’s tip for a year. Yes, an entire year, just to rebuild a single concrete railway platform. Impressive or what?

It all feels like a missed opportunity. There was no consultation with the regular commuters before the rebuilding (we actually got just two weeks notice that first one then the other platform would be closed for six months apiece). So I feel no ownership and see no reason to be grateful. On the other hand it is Christmas. So thanks for letting us have our station back. Ho Ho Ho. Or not, as the case may be.

A Refinery burns

Poison cloud hits London, screamed the headline in the Evening Standard. Err, up to a point Lord Copper. The skies were clear and there was no hint of oil-laded pollution in the air. Despite the awesome satellite photos of the huge black cloud covering most of southern England, following the fire at the refinery near Hemel Hempstead, there was little sign of it on the ground. The day the fire started, Sunday, was foggy, cold and very still and the air had a slightly prickly taste but then it does anyway on this sort of late autumn day.
Now the fires are out and the recriminations have begun. But this won’t deter London Underground who managed another round of “faulty communications equipment” problems last night with the usual cancellation of most of the Piccadilly trains up to Rayners Lane. Sod them. If only they would finish rebuilding Ruislip Manor then at least a further useless 10 minutes could be cut from my journey. Sometimes you just wish that the odd poison cloud would drop over Broadway and render helpless the “line controllers”.
And finally, as I ruminated a few weeks back a timely bonus from work has provided the means and the impetus to get a Creative Zen Sleek mp3 player. Lovely. The bloke fiddling with the dinkly little white box in the corner of the train - that's me you know