Trolley Dash
I caught the Aberdeen train with seconds to spare this morning, thanks to some computer melt-down with the taxi booking system. Mrs Z, who was on the morning school run around the suburbs of Inverness, graciously agreed to ferry me half-way to the station and then I completed the journey on foot, trundling my trolley-case behind me all the way. I'm sure I covered that remaining mile in just three minutes but no one from the was on hand to confirm this as an official time.
More four-wheeled fun as I left Aberdeen this afternoon, headed for Glasgow. The conductor came on the P.A. system to tell us that the catering trolley would "not be travelling with us".He sounded gutted by this news, as if the trolley was a personal friend who, for some misguided reason, had chosen another route in life.
But then, after Dundee, a trolley laden with tea, coffee and all manner of sweet and savoury snacks did appear in the ailse of our carriage, but it was being propelled at such a pace that it was almost a blur. It was being chased by a woman with her purse in hand and tongue hingin' oot who was gasping the words "tea, just milk...no sugar".
I'm convinced that First ScotRail have some cunning plan to deter us from onboard catering. A recent innovation has seen the catering host pushing his trolley through the length of the train, handing out cardboard menus but refusing to sell any food or drink until he makes the return journey. Which would be a fine idea if the choice and range of foodstuffs actually warranted a half hour's contemplation of a menu. Me? I usually know what I want at first glance. Tea and a choccy biscuit.
As it happens, the first time I saw the trolley bloke do this stuff with the menus he was being followed, a few minutes later, by a chap with a clipboard looking for passenger feedback on the service. He seemed a little perplexed and, well, huffy, when I explained that I didn't need to look at a menu.
"Well," he said, "I'm just here to get your opinions."
"Yes, I know. And...that was mine."
"Right well...thanks."
And off he went down the aisle looking for passengers with a little more patience and sophistication. I'm sure he muttered something about me being "off my trolley" but I might be making that up for the sake of a neat ending.
