Newspaper article Evening Chronicle (Newcastle, England)

My Train Journey to L and Back Gary Bainbridge One Man's Struggle with the 21st Century. Follow Gary on Twitter @Gary_Bainbridge or Email Him at Gary.Bainbridge@trinitymirror.Com

Newspaper article Evening Chronicle (Newcastle, England)

My Train Journey to L and Back Gary Bainbridge One Man's Struggle with the 21st Century. Follow Gary on Twitter @Gary_Bainbridge or Email Him at Gary.Bainbridge@trinitymirror.Com

Article excerpt

IHAD to go to Loughborough from Liverpool by train for reasons which need not detain you. I am a sophisticated journalist and one of the metropolitan elite. I have to travel to and from exotic places all the time, like Alan Whicker.

Unfortunately, travelling from Loughborough to Liverpool by train is a complex affair. And while it is half the distance to London, it takes roughly twice as long to get there. Also, I did not want to go to London.

The problem is that, in the history of the world, only about four people have needed to go from Liverpool to Loughborough on a Saturday, which means that there is an eye-watering number of changes before you actually reach the East Midlands home of the Sock Man (look it up).

And travelling on trains at the weekend provokes the sort of tense nail-biting and leg-jiggling you might perform while watching a Hitchcock movie. All the planets must align, you see, for you to make all your connections in time. Just one late-running train on the line ahead of you, and you could arrive at your destination four hours late.

So when the third of my four trains was 10 minutes late arriving into Leicester, just nine miles away from Loughborough, I was in something of a state. I had roughly 90 seconds to get from one train to another and, while I run for fitness, I am 45 years old.

I will never be mistaken for Usain Bolt. There are many differences between us, but the biggest difference by far is in our running techniques.

And, despite the fable telling you otherwise, the hare always beats the tortoise when it comes to the sprint.

We know this because sprint coaches don't stand by the side of the track saying: "No, Katarina Johnson-Thompson, you must, if anything, be MORE lackadaisical in your approach. Here, have a Werther's."

I tore through the station in pursuit of my train. Maniacally, I demanded of a station guard, as I raced past him: "Where's the Loughborough train?" "Platform 6," he called out, as I disappeared into the distance. (Look, trainspotters, I don't remember the numbers of the platforms, so I've probably remembered this wrong. Trains are not my be all and end all, I am a bus man. …

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