Ticket to ride

I was in Auld Reekie yesterday evening, which involved a quick sprint into town to catch the last train before the rush-hour fares kick in. Such was my rush, however, that I didn’t pick up my return ticket from the ticket machine.

So I had to explain this to the conductor on the train to Edinburgh that I didn’t have a return, and what should I do? He said as long as I had my outgoing ticket and proof of purchase I should be fine, and it happened to people all the time. Fine.

But then I had to repeat myself to the guy at the barrier at Waverley when I arrived, again when I turned up at Waverley at the end of the evening, then on the return train, and one last time at the barriers at Queen Street.

Not a particular problem, as they all accepted that I had proof of having bought the ticket. I just got a bit fed up having to keep repeating myself, and there was always the nagging doubt that I would have the misfortune of running into a total jobsworth who would insist on me buying another ticket.

And I hate going anywhere without everything I need, like the relevant tickets. For instance I feel naked without a watch on, and when I am abroad I have an almost paranoid obsession about always knowing where my passport is. And when I leave the flat each morning I do a quick self-bodysearch to ensure that I have my wallet, flat keys, work keys, iPod, phone, and anything else I need that day, in a routine that resembles a very bad attempt at the Macarena.

It’s ironic, therefore, that I forgot to take my camera with me to Edinburgh (and yes, that is irony and not just bad luck. I hope you’re reading this, Morissette). So no swathe of uninspiring black and white photos of the Scottish Parliament from me, you’ll be glad to know. Which after a brief circumnavigation of the exterior, I can confidently report is one of the ugliest buildings I’ve ever seen. With the possible exception of St Nicholas House, the home of Aberdeen City Council.

Oh, and while we’re on the subject of Edinburgh, I’m quite proud of myself that after a year or so of Weegieland, I can now fully and easily tell the Glasgae accent, man, from the Embra accent, eh.

10 thoughts on “Ticket to ride

  1. Surely it’s only ironic if you had planned to take your camera with you and missed it in your “pre-flight check”? Otherwise it is just unfortunate.

  2. Irony, surely, would be if he’d somehow forgotten his camera because of the pre-flight check. Or if his trip to Edinburgh had been planned entirely because he wanted to use his camera.

  3. Fair points everyone. I did indeed plan to take my camera – hence the irony.

    Incidentally, when I got off the train in Edinburgh, who was at the front of the queue on the platform, awaiting ingress? Annabel Goldie. She didn’t recognise me, though.

    Not that she let on, anyway.

  4. Annabel Goldie went to my school and she’s a scarey wumman. She came to our prizegiving one year as the speaker and told a story about how she and her friends made steam puddings or similar in home economics class, and then flung them out of the window of the train on the way home and they got stuck to the engine of another train. So I’d avoid standing too close to her in a railway station!

  5. So your experience with the missing ticket was entertaining. I’m thinking you’ll never make that mistake again. With regards to the new Scottish Parliment, I disagree – I was quite taken with the building when I saw it. Sadley as it was the end of the day and there was low cloud cover I didn’t take as many pictures as I would have liked as the lighting was just bad. Others I’ve spoken with also like the architecture of the building and the use of different materiels (water, wood, metal etc). I guess it just comes down to personal taste.

  6. Chris, I’m sure it does just come down to personal taste, but it’s a shame that a parliament building specially built for Scotland is to the distaste of so many Scots. Especially when most people seemed to like the previous building that was being used.

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