Public Transport - Discuss

The photo shows the Abbey Flyer. Confessions and apologies - I did not take it, do not own the copyright and should probably take it down if anyone objects...

I've chosen this photo because I have an anecdote to share. It's not particularly exciting or entertaining but it did amuse me - with hindsight. And it has also challenged me to take action to change things so that this ludicrously ridiculous situation no longer exists.

As some of you know I have been doing some freelance writing for our local news magazine. As a youngster (yes - we used that word back in the day...) I longed to be a journalist. I craved a byline the way my peers craved chocolate, chips, or a snog with David Cassidy. Somehow life didn't quite deliver my wishlist and after a spell at Marks and Spencer and the birth of three children I found myself officially too old to train. Since when did thirty become old? I know some (almost) thirty year olds I gave birth to - they are, to coin an old phrase, mere youngsters...

The editor suggested going into the office once a week for a few weeks, to see how I got on. I jumped at this opportunity - believing the magazine office to be at the Croxley Business Park. As I put the phone down I realised the words "Bricket Wood" had come into the conversation. What? How?

Needs must and all of that. After an hour or so in the company of my friend Google I phoned Traveline who assured me Bricketwood is a mere bus ride away from Croxley. The 724 to be precise. I dutifully waited for it, boarded it (ten minutes later than expected) and journeyed to "The Black Boy". The journey itself was a revelation. Heads turned when I brought out my yoghurt and banana - apparently breakfasting on the bus is not as acceptable as it is on the Met Line. (thank goodness I had already applied a full face of make up).

And then - horror of horrors - people started to speak. As in talk to each other. Oh my goodness, no, please no. Not at this time in the morning. Don't they have ipods? Probably not - most of them are over seventy...

The twenty five minute estimated journey time was quite frankly a joke. After an hour or two - after we'd been hit by a lorry and delayed by around 350 sets of traffic lights - I was finally deposited at the Black Boy an hour or so after leaving home.

Now the fun was to begin. Bricketwood is not a small place. The Business Park is not on the same side of it as the Black Boy. Not to worry - I have boots and an anorak, a printout of Googlemaps and a newly acquired Android phone. I begin to walk. Twenty five minutes later after uphill and downhill walks and a particularly hairy stretch along a country lane with no footpath I arrive at the Business Park. I have only to negotiate the short stretch of flooded road, splashed only lightly by those drivers with the luxury of a four wheeled vehicle to themselves, and I am there.

Good morning, and welcome - how was your journey?

to be continued........