Travel is a funny thing part 1
07th August 2010
I was on the Heathrow Express on Thursday (this, for those of you that don’t know, is the train that runs non-stop from London to Heathrow) a train, which is designed for people who are travelling to and from the airport with bags.
A family of five boarded the carriage that I was on, lugging their bags behind them. There’s nothing unusual in this, they’d all packed more than they could carry and were leaving it to one member of the group to get the bags up into the luggage rack. (Is this why luggage is so named I wonder, a merging of the words lugging and bag?)
None of this is unusual. However, I did raise a quizzical eyebrow when the ticket inspector reached our intrepid family and the dad asked if the train would stop long enough for them to get their bags off. I repeat: it’s a train to Heathrow carrying people with luggage to and from their holidays and business trips. What did our family think the train was going to do upon arrival at Heathrow? Judging by his concern, the dad believed the train would slow down, the doors open and the passengers would fling their bags out then jump for their lives, landing in a bundle on the platform. Likewise, passengers getting on at Heathrow for the journey back to London, would have to hurl their bags on, then jump in behind them, landing in a pile of bodies and bags playing Mrs Muddle in the carriage entrance.
Unlike me, the ticket collector didn’t seem phased by the question and, he answered without any sarcasm, informing the dad that the train stops for two minutes, plenty of time for people to get their bags and their families off.
I returned to gazing out of the window.
“How will we know when we’re there?”
I turned back to our intrepid family. This question hadn’t come from one of the children; it had come from the dad. I looked at the ticket inspector, the ticket inspector looked at the dad, the dad looked expectantly at the ticket inspector, the ticket inspector walked down the aisle “tickets please.” I handed mine over.
For the record, you’ll know when your Heathrow Express train has arrived at its destination because it will slow down and then stop, the doors will open and the signs on the platform will read Heathrow Terminals 1 and 3 (I don’t know what happened to the signs for 2) and the doors will stay open long enough for you to get your luggage off.
A family of five boarded the carriage that I was on, lugging their bags behind them. There’s nothing unusual in this, they’d all packed more than they could carry and were leaving it to one member of the group to get the bags up into the luggage rack. (Is this why luggage is so named I wonder, a merging of the words lugging and bag?)
None of this is unusual. However, I did raise a quizzical eyebrow when the ticket inspector reached our intrepid family and the dad asked if the train would stop long enough for them to get their bags off. I repeat: it’s a train to Heathrow carrying people with luggage to and from their holidays and business trips. What did our family think the train was going to do upon arrival at Heathrow? Judging by his concern, the dad believed the train would slow down, the doors open and the passengers would fling their bags out then jump for their lives, landing in a bundle on the platform. Likewise, passengers getting on at Heathrow for the journey back to London, would have to hurl their bags on, then jump in behind them, landing in a pile of bodies and bags playing Mrs Muddle in the carriage entrance.
Unlike me, the ticket collector didn’t seem phased by the question and, he answered without any sarcasm, informing the dad that the train stops for two minutes, plenty of time for people to get their bags and their families off.
I returned to gazing out of the window.
“How will we know when we’re there?”
I turned back to our intrepid family. This question hadn’t come from one of the children; it had come from the dad. I looked at the ticket inspector, the ticket inspector looked at the dad, the dad looked expectantly at the ticket inspector, the ticket inspector walked down the aisle “tickets please.” I handed mine over.
For the record, you’ll know when your Heathrow Express train has arrived at its destination because it will slow down and then stop, the doors will open and the signs on the platform will read Heathrow Terminals 1 and 3 (I don’t know what happened to the signs for 2) and the doors will stay open long enough for you to get your luggage off.