Tubewhore (![[info]](http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} tubewhore) wrote,@ 2008-04-10 20:37:00 |
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Snow In Surbiton
There was a for the weekend plan...it involved spending Sunday afternoon playing on trains with cohorts, with Monday reserved for shopping at the wholesalers I usually can't get to on my weekend jaunts, before an elegant tea and home.
Woke up on Sunday to find that for once the forecast for snow had been correct. Whereas Friday had been almost balmy, Saturday had grown gradually colder and more wintery - especially during a 40 minute wait for a later train at Wimbledon due to a cable fire at Waterloo where I lost feeling in my feet and almost my temper* - and overnight a thick dusting of snow had fallen.
The view from the kitchen window:
Now, I know to many of my Canadian friends, the definition of what constitutes 'heavy snowfall' will be somewhat different, but this is London, and the slightest case of anything akin to adverse weather throws all transport into confusion and general headless chicken behaviour. There were already rail replacement bus services to factor in, but we decided to brave it and wrapped up warm in Doctor Who scarves and extra mittens to take on the Jubilee line after failing_angel had already called to wisely baulk at doing the DLR as originally planned.
Once outside however, where big fat flakes were still coming down and getting into eyes it was our resolve we found melting away in the April sun...we made it as far as the local cafe for a fine breakfast of poached eggs and fried things, and from there dragged to Surbiton train station, but at the site of people shivering in the cold waiting for the bus replacement gave up all pretense that we were actually going to go anywhere. The good old-fashioned British spirit of 'bugger this for a game of soldiers' kicked in and we headed home to lie on the sofa, watch junk telly and stare out the window as flurries came and went through out the day. Pair of wusses!
Score for the day: weather, 1 Tubewhore, nil.
There was a for the weekend plan...it involved spending Sunday afternoon playing on trains with cohorts, with Monday reserved for shopping at the wholesalers I usually can't get to on my weekend jaunts, before an elegant tea and home.
Woke up on Sunday to find that for once the forecast for snow had been correct. Whereas Friday had been almost balmy, Saturday had grown gradually colder and more wintery - especially during a 40 minute wait for a later train at Wimbledon due to a cable fire at Waterloo where I lost feeling in my feet and almost my temper* - and overnight a thick dusting of snow had fallen.
The view from the kitchen window:
Now, I know to many of my Canadian friends, the definition of what constitutes 'heavy snowfall' will be somewhat different, but this is London, and the slightest case of anything akin to adverse weather throws all transport into confusion and general headless chicken behaviour. There were already rail replacement bus services to factor in, but we decided to brave it and wrapped up warm in Doctor Who scarves and extra mittens to take on the Jubilee line after failing_angel had already called to wisely baulk at doing the DLR as originally planned.
Once outside however, where big fat flakes were still coming down and getting into eyes it was our resolve we found melting away in the April sun...we made it as far as the local cafe for a fine breakfast of poached eggs and fried things, and from there dragged to Surbiton train station, but at the site of people shivering in the cold waiting for the bus replacement gave up all pretense that we were actually going to go anywhere. The good old-fashioned British spirit of 'bugger this for a game of soldiers' kicked in and we headed home to lie on the sofa, watch junk telly and stare out the window as flurries came and went through out the day. Pair of wusses!
A few Novembers previous, Cornwall was hit by a sudden dramatic snowfall, with nearly four inches falling in the space of an hour, and it crippled the county for days. My nephew was stuck at school until nine in the evening because the buses couldn't get to them through narrow country lanes. In response B and I had put on sturdy boots and gone for a ramble through the woods, singing carols and listening to the branches crack above us with the sudden weight. It was one of my favourite days ever.
But that was Cornwall - London in bad weather just means misery; waiting in the cold while wearing wet coats and scarves, being stuck on train stations, and never knowing when you'd get home, everything slow and cranky and just plain hard. The idea of trying to get to Neasden or over to West India Quays, when you knew it would be hours and hours and nothing but slog and effort...well, staying in, under a duvet on the sofa with tea and French Fancies and Sunday afternoon costume dramas and light comedies with that 'snowed in' feeling of indulgence and hibernation...well, that's about as good as it gets too...we raided M&S for supplies and retired home to enjoy the weather from inside a warm house...
*(after getting frozen solid on a open station that was a wind tunnel, waiting for a frigging train that was 40 mins delayed, to be followed by the added inconvenience of a rail replacement bus service between Tolworth and Surbiton, not in the mood for numpties being in charge of passenger information. G was going to meet me at the station, so needed to give him an ETA so as to avoid him freezing too.
So; my question to bloke in hi-vi directing people to rail replacement coaches: 'how long is the bus journey time to Surbiton, please?'
Numpty: 'You want that bus there'.
Me:' Yes, I was listening when you annouced that, but I need to know how long it takes, please.'
Numpty: 'oh it goes straight there'
Me: 'Still doesn't answer the question. I have someone coming me, you see. Can you tell me how long it might take, so I can let them know'
Numpty: 'Oh it's a direct service'
Driver 1, joining in: 'Oh, not long, love. 'Bout 5 minutes'
Driver2: 'nah...closer to ten, I'd say'
Driver1, again: 'yeah, you;re probably right...'bout fifteen minutes...possibly'
I then have to try to put my bag in the coach, but it's pitch black and very full, I can't see where there's a gap. I struggle for a bit and decide to just drag it on the bus, and only when I turn to do so, does the driver chap have the grace to open another luggage compartment which is empty. I think he enjoying seeing me struggling).
Still, the snow was pretty, momentarily, and local kids built a snowman outside the flats. Possibly the first time many of them had seen it fall properly. I texted L to see how his kidlets were reacting to the snow; reply came: 'am freezing my nuts off on Wimbledon Common making snow angels' - aww, gives you a fuzzy glow inside; those are the things his kids will remember doing with their dad when they look back on their childhoods...
But that was Cornwall - London in bad weather just means misery; waiting in the cold while wearing wet coats and scarves, being stuck on train stations, and never knowing when you'd get home, everything slow and cranky and just plain hard. The idea of trying to get to Neasden or over to West India Quays, when you knew it would be hours and hours and nothing but slog and effort...well, staying in, under a duvet on the sofa with tea and French Fancies and Sunday afternoon costume dramas and light comedies with that 'snowed in' feeling of indulgence and hibernation...well, that's about as good as it gets too...we raided M&S for supplies and retired home to enjoy the weather from inside a warm house...
*(after getting frozen solid on a open station that was a wind tunnel, waiting for a frigging train that was 40 mins delayed, to be followed by the added inconvenience of a rail replacement bus service between Tolworth and Surbiton, not in the mood for numpties being in charge of passenger information. G was going to meet me at the station, so needed to give him an ETA so as to avoid him freezing too.
So; my question to bloke in hi-vi directing people to rail replacement coaches: 'how long is the bus journey time to Surbiton, please?'
Numpty: 'You want that bus there'.
Me:' Yes, I was listening when you annouced that, but I need to know how long it takes, please.'
Numpty: 'oh it goes straight there'
Me: 'Still doesn't answer the question. I have someone coming me, you see. Can you tell me how long it might take, so I can let them know'
Numpty: 'Oh it's a direct service'
Driver 1, joining in: 'Oh, not long, love. 'Bout 5 minutes'
Driver2: 'nah...closer to ten, I'd say'
Driver1, again: 'yeah, you;re probably right...'bout fifteen minutes...possibly'
I then have to try to put my bag in the coach, but it's pitch black and very full, I can't see where there's a gap. I struggle for a bit and decide to just drag it on the bus, and only when I turn to do so, does the driver chap have the grace to open another luggage compartment which is empty. I think he enjoying seeing me struggling).
Still, the snow was pretty, momentarily, and local kids built a snowman outside the flats. Possibly the first time many of them had seen it fall properly. I texted L to see how his kidlets were reacting to the snow; reply came: 'am freezing my nuts off on Wimbledon Common making snow angels' - aww, gives you a fuzzy glow inside; those are the things his kids will remember doing with their dad when they look back on their childhoods...
Score for the day: weather, 1 Tubewhore, nil.
