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One of those train journeys....
Dec. 18th, 2009 11:07 amStill slightly traumatised from the journey home last night. The weather forecasters had been promising heavy snow, but like an idiot I accepted the offer of a last minute ticket to the ballet with friend from the office. When I got to Covent Garden the weather was fine, though with a bitter wind.
The ballet was charming, Les Patineurs and Tales From Beatrix Potter, and we had a glass of phenomenally expensive champagne at the interval. But by about 9 o'clock my subconscious was saying "I think we've had enough of the cute squirrels by now". By the time I had finally retrieved my coat and got out (about 9.20 pm) it was not only bitter, but snowing gustily.
Got to King's Cross to find they had cancelled the 21.52 but the 22.15 was running, as was the 22.06 to Foxton (which does actually go to Cambridge although they don't tell you so, but it stops everywhere). In hindsight I should have taken the Foxton train, but hindsight is a wonderful thing, and I didn't. We set off a little late, and of course as it was a four coach train a lot of people were standing. The driver announced that there was heavy snow and he was limited to seventy miles an hour, so to brace ourselves for a long trip.
The snow settling on the surrounding countryside gradually got deeper as we got further away from London. After an hour or so we got to Letchworth (about half way to Cambridge) where the driver announced that the train wasn't going any further and would we all please get off so the train could be shunted off into a siding. Apparently there were trains backed up all the way to Cambridge and no trains were getting through. It was still snowing, but most people (including me) obediently got off and started trying to find taxis and suchlike. I rang Michael from the platform and said "I don't know what to do". Michael chivalrously said "Would you like me to drive to Letchworth and pick you up?" "Yes please," I said rather dubiously. I felt bad about asking him to drive in the snow, but I didn't want to be stuck in Letchworth all night.
As the train was still standing at the platform I thought I might as well get back on, as it was the warmest place available, and a fair number of other people had the same idea. About twenty minutes later, people started piling back on the train again. Apparently we were going to Cambridge after all. The train set off, and I tried to ring Michael, but his mobile was off and he had already left the house. A while later it occurred to me that I could send him a text, and a few minutes later Michael rang me to say he had made it as far as Foxton (about 5 miles from Cambridge) but what traffic there was was doing 20 miles an hour, so it was going to be very slow. I said that the train was going on to Cambridge and in fact by then we'd just passed Addenbrooke's. Michael was hugely relieved at being able to turn round and said he'd try to catch up with me on the way home. By then it was a quarter to midnight. The train then sat outside Cambridge station for another 15 minutes while they found us a platform.
I set off to walk home in my office shoes, which actually stood up quite well to the snow - I think it was about 3 inches deep by then. I finally met Michael at the top of Cherry Hinton Road, and he gave me a lift for the last 300 yards. We were both so grateful to be home safe and sound. We had to watch stupid TV for half an hour to unwind before going to bed.
Woke up this morning to horror stories of people being stuck in their cars overnight. Not driving anywhere today.
The ballet was charming, Les Patineurs and Tales From Beatrix Potter, and we had a glass of phenomenally expensive champagne at the interval. But by about 9 o'clock my subconscious was saying "I think we've had enough of the cute squirrels by now". By the time I had finally retrieved my coat and got out (about 9.20 pm) it was not only bitter, but snowing gustily.
Got to King's Cross to find they had cancelled the 21.52 but the 22.15 was running, as was the 22.06 to Foxton (which does actually go to Cambridge although they don't tell you so, but it stops everywhere). In hindsight I should have taken the Foxton train, but hindsight is a wonderful thing, and I didn't. We set off a little late, and of course as it was a four coach train a lot of people were standing. The driver announced that there was heavy snow and he was limited to seventy miles an hour, so to brace ourselves for a long trip.
The snow settling on the surrounding countryside gradually got deeper as we got further away from London. After an hour or so we got to Letchworth (about half way to Cambridge) where the driver announced that the train wasn't going any further and would we all please get off so the train could be shunted off into a siding. Apparently there were trains backed up all the way to Cambridge and no trains were getting through. It was still snowing, but most people (including me) obediently got off and started trying to find taxis and suchlike. I rang Michael from the platform and said "I don't know what to do". Michael chivalrously said "Would you like me to drive to Letchworth and pick you up?" "Yes please," I said rather dubiously. I felt bad about asking him to drive in the snow, but I didn't want to be stuck in Letchworth all night.
As the train was still standing at the platform I thought I might as well get back on, as it was the warmest place available, and a fair number of other people had the same idea. About twenty minutes later, people started piling back on the train again. Apparently we were going to Cambridge after all. The train set off, and I tried to ring Michael, but his mobile was off and he had already left the house. A while later it occurred to me that I could send him a text, and a few minutes later Michael rang me to say he had made it as far as Foxton (about 5 miles from Cambridge) but what traffic there was was doing 20 miles an hour, so it was going to be very slow. I said that the train was going on to Cambridge and in fact by then we'd just passed Addenbrooke's. Michael was hugely relieved at being able to turn round and said he'd try to catch up with me on the way home. By then it was a quarter to midnight. The train then sat outside Cambridge station for another 15 minutes while they found us a platform.
I set off to walk home in my office shoes, which actually stood up quite well to the snow - I think it was about 3 inches deep by then. I finally met Michael at the top of Cherry Hinton Road, and he gave me a lift for the last 300 yards. We were both so grateful to be home safe and sound. We had to watch stupid TV for half an hour to unwind before going to bed.
Woke up this morning to horror stories of people being stuck in their cars overnight. Not driving anywhere today.
