In an earlier post I described the horror of taking the sleeper (5/9/2012) perhaps more appropriately called the "waker" from Edinburgh to London. That experience should have put me off for good but...I could find no other way to get to London on a Monday morning for a 10.00 meeting in Potters Bar.
The journey down was actually fine. I returned the same day on the 14.00 from Kings Cross, home of the walking-texter. These people walk through a crowded station (or airport, street, any crowded place) head down looking at the screen of their mobile phones while walking along ignoring the the high odds that they will bump into someone. This means those of us who walk without texting have to avoid them!
On the train I found a seat, one of the few unreserved seats,which was opposite the door to the toilet. No ordinary toilet, the makers of trains have decided passengers should play Toilet-Russian-Roulette. This toilet has a button to open the door, the door slides back in a Star Trek fashion while making a noise just like the doors on the USS Enterprise. Once inside you have to push the "close" button and then the "lock" button (assuming that you want some privacy whilst in there).
For three hours I watched nervous passengers overcome their fears and make use of the facilities, all without a hitch except for the occasional person who could not read the "engaged" sign when it was lit up.
My turn came. Reassured by the steady stream of passengers successfully operating the door and lock mechanism, I ventured forth. I pushed the "open" button; it worked. I pushed the "close" button; it worked. I pushed the "lock" button; I thought it had worked. Rather inconveniently I was interrupted by a large grey-haired gentleman who had managed to override the "lock" mechanism.
Now in hiding, I await a knock in the door from Scotland's finest constables ready to cart me away for indecent exposure.
The journey down was actually fine. I returned the same day on the 14.00 from Kings Cross, home of the walking-texter. These people walk through a crowded station (or airport, street, any crowded place) head down looking at the screen of their mobile phones while walking along ignoring the the high odds that they will bump into someone. This means those of us who walk without texting have to avoid them!
On the train I found a seat, one of the few unreserved seats,which was opposite the door to the toilet. No ordinary toilet, the makers of trains have decided passengers should play Toilet-Russian-Roulette. This toilet has a button to open the door, the door slides back in a Star Trek fashion while making a noise just like the doors on the USS Enterprise. Once inside you have to push the "close" button and then the "lock" button (assuming that you want some privacy whilst in there).
For three hours I watched nervous passengers overcome their fears and make use of the facilities, all without a hitch except for the occasional person who could not read the "engaged" sign when it was lit up.
My turn came. Reassured by the steady stream of passengers successfully operating the door and lock mechanism, I ventured forth. I pushed the "open" button; it worked. I pushed the "close" button; it worked. I pushed the "lock" button; I thought it had worked. Rather inconveniently I was interrupted by a large grey-haired gentleman who had managed to override the "lock" mechanism.
Now in hiding, I await a knock in the door from Scotland's finest constables ready to cart me away for indecent exposure.
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