Train conventions March 3, 2007
Posted by CamdenKiwi in : Miscellany , trackbackThe train out of Euston was silent all the way to Birmingham, apart from the noise of the rails and the intermittent playstation whistle at a frequency guaranteed to annoy. London trains always are, unless someone’s disregarding the unwritten rules and having a loud conversation with their travelling companion, present or a mobile call away. The unwritten taboo on casual conversation with a stranger is always upheld.
Change at Birmingham New St for the local train to Lichfield, and the world changes too. An extended conversation with the woman across the aisle about which way the train will go, utter ignorance of West Midlands geography on my part no barrier, a couple of old blokes start talking about the silicon in fuel scandal that’s upsetting fuel injection systems nationwide and half the carriage joins in the general consensus that cars you can’t fix yourself are no good. A family of five get off at Lichfield City, telling everyone that they’ve never been further up the line to the wilds of Lichfield Trent Valley. I wonder what I’m letting myself in for.
The cabbie from the station chats throughout the journey. He’s not from here, but from a village 20 miles away. Not a village anymore, but a town of 30,000. He tells me I don’t need to go to the spa, beause I don’t need beauty treatments, and he loves me. He’s also told his next fare he loves (I assume) her. All in that gentle, non-threatening way blokes in the North have about them. It’s rather lovely.
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