Another trip...

another Virgin Trains experience.

I board the train and, after a rather manner-free interruption from a man who claims I'm sat at sit at his allocated seat (I was- the seat reservations signs were switched off and a young lady was sat in my spot), sit at my seat, and soon am aware of how hot I am. "Has my cold gotten worse?", I wonder, thinking that it's only me that's rather more than toasty. And then there's an announcement over the tannoy- the train in front has broken down and is being inspected, and we'll be held in position until the problem's been rectified and the train has moved on. This is really no cause for anguish or concern. It happens so often it should be accounted for in timetables. So we're 25 minutes behind schedule. And then the ticket inspector comes along. He alone was the saving grace of this journey- if he'd given us any more information we'd have been privy to his inside leg measurement, favourite underwear and childhood trauma. He tells us that the computer systems are broken in this and the next carriage, so the heating is running wild and the reservations system has decided to have a rest. And we all let out a collectively knowing laugh of "here-we-go-again" without realising that there's more to come.

It seems Virgin trains is working in partnership with an un-named agency to make it's customers have an even more memorable experience. Thirty minutes later and we're at a stand-still again, and the tannoy system is beeping again. Poised for a rundown of the Ticket-inspector's daily dietary intake and plans for Christmas, we are infact told there has been an incident a few trains ahead in Leyland, just before Preston. A bull has decided to play chicken at the wrong moment. Any ideas of an impromptu Virgin staff railside barbecue are put to rest as it as announced that the bull is still walking and a vet has been called. And possibly also a scrap metal dealer as it seems bulls are stronger than Virgin trains.

After a further half-hour stop at Wigan we are finally back on the move, albeit slowly so that we just shunt any more suicidal livestock of the tracks and finally arrive a mere 1 hour and 20 minutes late into Lancaster. This journey will remain in my memory for a long time, alongside the 12 hour journey to Manchester when the signals froze, the heating broke down, and the shop ran out of water for hot drinks an hour after our December 27th deparure (it was well into December 28th before we arrived). Virgin really do strive to make it a night to remember.