Wrong Track.

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Bern's Prose.

Wrong Track.

 

Not many people about a few late travellers waiting for the nine forty five train going to Scotland. The train slowly entered the station and came to a stop at Platform four. The Ticket collector stood looking rather bored as he slowly looked at each passenger’s ticket. I walked along the platform and found myself a compartment somewhere in the middle of the train. I have this feeling that the safest place on a train is somewhere in the middle. I looked at my watch one minute to go. The engines whistle blew and the train slowly moved out of the station.

 

I settled back in my seat with the evening paper in my hand. I had no chance to read the news before; I became so absorbed in the article that I was reading that I did not realise that the train had made no stops. We should have stopped at Peterborough and one or two other stations on our way to the North. Opening my suitcase I took out one of my sandwiches and my thermos flask of coffee.

The door to the compartment opened a man looked in and said, “Any idea when we get to Aberystwyth?” Now it was my turn to speak.  “Aberystwyth this train is going to Scotland not to Wales.” “Are you sure?” I showed the man my ticket. Plainly to see were the words Fort William. The man thanked me and went off without shutting the compartment door after him. I got up out of my seat and slammed the compartment door shut.

 

The train slowed down and came to a stop. Looking out of the window I saw that we were stopped in the middle of the countryside. People got out of the train; I opened my compartment window and asked a man why we had stopped he called back, “No Idea, Some idiot is going around saying we are on the way to Aberystwyth.” “Where are we now I called down to him.” “No idea this is my first time going to Scotland. I called back, “Is there no Guard on this train he would know where we are heading for.” “No Guard that I can see not even a Ticket Collector.” I thanked and closed my window it was a little chilly in the train. Suddenly the Trains whistle blew again puffs of steam shot up into the air and we slowly moved off. Half an hour later we stopped again. This time the lights on the train flickered and then we were in total darkness. No noise no voices it was as if I was completely alone on this train. Suddenly the compartment door opened a voice called in Next stop Aberystwyth.  This is the train from Kings Cross going to Fort William in Scotland. The man laughed as if I had told a good joke. Then he sang a song. I recognised Men Of Harlech, one of the famous Welsh songs. Next he came out with a flood of Welsh words. I recognised some of the words but they did not make any sense. One I got was. Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch  I hope that I have spelt it right. I can still hear the laughs, weird laughs that he gave from his mouth. His eyes were bloodshot and I began to wonder whether he was drunk or just mentally ill. The man left me and I heard him going down the train shouting his Welsh words. The train moved off again. I looked at my wristwatch; it was four thirty in the morning. We had finally arrived we were not in Scotland the words Aberystwyth were plainly to be seen. I made my complaints to the Station Master that someone had kindly got out his bed to listen to my complaints. Arrangements were made for me to go across country by using local trains to get me to Fort William in Scotland. This is a warning for users of trains; make sure before you board a train that it is going to where you want to go. This is your scribbler giving you a report of one of my train journeys. Bern

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