I am not an expert by any means on British rail travel, though when conducting a very small bit of research online, I read that South Western Railway did not have the best reputation. There were tales of people being stranded in the pubs surrounding Waterloo station, some due to the trains and in others the ale seemed to be more to blame.
At any rate I wanted to travel from Portsmouth to London and it was the option. The first thing that strikes a traveller is speed or lack thereof these trains run. There are plenty of stops at stations along the way in towns few have heard of let alone would want to stop to see.
That is not to say there is nothing to see. There is rolling English countryside and various picturesque views of small town Britain. As an avid people watcher I quickly began to notice the people waiting on the platform to board the train to London. On this Sunday morning there were plenty of families and young couples hoping on for a journey to the capital for a day.
Children were turned out in proper shirts and short pants, fathers wearing fatherly things, and ladies predominantly wearing simple yet elegant sundress. As the ticket taker checked the family behind me they explained they were going to visit the city to see friends and an exhibition on something or another. Just the way they exclaimed they were going to to see this exhibition, and used the term exhibition, was so British and absolutely perfect.
The somewhat ironic thing was that all these well turned out folks were on a train that was not very clean. When I boarded it was very evident that the train had not been cleaned since perhaps the night before. Plenty of spaces had snack food strewn about. This train also suffered from the crime against humanity of having nonfunctional wifi.
By the time we reached Guildford the train was full and I also began to notice something I had forgotten about British trains and public transport in general. This day was early June and the sun was shining. That meant one thing, the lack of air conditioning was obvious. I also quickly realized that my Tube journeys once I arrived in the city would be a bit sweaty. When I say a bit sweaty, only people who have ridden the Piccadilly Line in the summer, will understand what I mean by a bit sweaty. A woman passed by and I noticed that special smell of sweaty traveller.
By now all I wanted was for the train ride to be over. As the train passed inside the M25 the views changed from rolling British countryside to urban sprawl. The only green spaces at this point in the journey were playgrounds and cricket pitches. Not being from the UK, I still find it fascinating that people actually play cricket. Passing through Wimbledon, the skyscrapers of the city start to pop up.
By this point I am full on sweating and uncomfortable yet the always composed and proper Brits seem fine with the whole situation. I normally thoroughly enjoy trains but for whatever reason, this one was not torture but also not pleasant. The train pulled into Clapham Junction and finally people started to disembark. Not enough people to decrease the overall sweatiness of the train but just enough to give everyone a little bit of personal space as opposed to borderline not enough personal space.
Out the window another train screams by at a higher speed and for a moment I didn’t care where it was heading I just wished I was on a faster train. It was also at this time that I realized I had taken the train to Paris from London much faster than this 70 mile journey took.
Finally arriving at Waterloo, minding the gap, and getting off the train in Lindon made the journey worthwhile. The London Eye, which of course is an awful ripoff, dominates the skyline and I smile because I am back in London.
All Ian’s Adventures 