N O T . T H I S . T I M E
When we got to the ticket counter at Brentwood station the dude mentioned that the Chelmsford service is via Billericay today . . . . we smiled and nodded, "no worries", purchased our tickets and wandered off to the platform to wait for the train.
Train came, we arrived in Shenfield, hopped on another to Billericay, jumped off the train and looked for the information screen to advise us of which platform the train to Chelmsford will arrive on . . . . . EPIC FAIL . . . . . there is no freaking train to Chelmsford - Ashley starts to panic a little
After wandering around the station for a short while, we bumped into a station staff member, with a quick murmur of "Chemsford?" she pointed towards another staff member standing down the far end of the platform
. . . at this point it felt a little like one of those scavenger hunts, where will we go next?
Asked the lonely guy at the end of the platform where we go to get to Chelmsford and he pointed to a massive line of busses parked outside the station with a million other confused commuters packed around them
A W E S O M E
We wander around repeating the the word "Chelmsford" and being bounced from staff member to staff member, bus to bus untill finally we get to a big blue bus with the word CHELMSFORD printed on its window - Woooppeeeee, Finally!!
We go to jump on and the driver stops us at the door "Sorry girls this bus is full"
J U S T . M Y . F R E A K I N G . L U C K
"Go down to the next bus and they will fit you on" . . . . off we trot, arrive at the next bus, squeeze out another exhausted little "Chelmsford" (for the 50th freaking time that afternoon) only to be told that the big blue bus we had just been to was the ONLY bus going to Chelmsford, we spin around to point to it and make sure as the blasted thing pulls away from the curb and speeds off down the road. . . .
J E E E Z U S . C H R I S T
I . H A T E . Y O U . L O N D O N . T R A N S P O R T
I turn back to the man and give him one hell of a stink eye, I start to feel raindrops hitting my hair and face, the rage starts to boil and then it all comes rolling out. One long, frustrated and slightly aggressive educational explanation of the longwinded, highly unorganised attempt made by his incompetent fellow team members to advise us of the direction we needed to go in to get to Chelmsford, and how he needed to find us a solution to get there ASAP or so help me god I will vigorously insert my size 7 swede shoe so far up his bum he will be able to chew on the gum I accidentally stepped in earlier that day . . . . . . .
R E S U L T
I felt much better after my mini explosion, and next thing we know a big bus pulls up in front of our feet to take JUST THE 2 OF US all the way to Chelmsford, compliments of the Team manager of London Transport.
T H A T . I S . W H A T . I M . T A L K I N G . A B O U T
Arriving at Chelmsford station, chauffeured by the very accommodating (and slightly intimidated) London Transport System, we make our way to Miller and Carter Steakhouse, enjoy a glorious dinner and have a great old time. . . . .
Lesson learnt - London Transport is horrendous, so just yell a bit and before you know it, they think you are the Queen herself - about time someone recognized me for the legend that I am, hahahaha
M I N D . T H E . G A P
- L O N D O N . T R A N S P O R T . S Y S T E M - O N E . B I G . F U C K I N G . G A P . I N . S O C I E T Y
Cheerio my darling subjects
- Your Majesty, Ashley Elizabeth
x x x