Trains in Western Europe are marvelous. They are truly amazing, because they are always on time . . . you can actually set your watch by the train arrival and departure! It’s nothing like where I live in the Hairy Armpit . . . after living most of the last 13 plus years in Russia and the Balkans . . . where anything closely resembling on time is acceptable and expected. If it is a half hour late . . . well, that is really on time here. Western Europe is just the opposite; 10:04 departure means 10:04 depart 999 times out of 1000.
So if you are running late getting to the airport or train station here in the Hairy Armpit, no one panics or has their blood pressure shooting higher . . . the chances are better than even that whatever mode of transportation you are going to get on, will depart late by Western standards.
On the other hand, if you are running late in Germany or Switzerland . . . oops . . . guess what? You are going to miss your train. And this is where I found myself on Saturday . . . after a blessed week in the West, where everything functions in a predictable rational manner . . . running late because the regional highway into Basel, Switzerland from Germany was closed for repairs . . . so we had to take the scenic route . . . along with thousands of other motorists . . . and we are seriously late.
I really hate that O.J. Simpson style of of running through the airport or whatever transportation hub you find yourself, racing to catch your train plane or automobile. But once again, here I am doing just that. I am too old for this crap!
I decided to take my chances with the train steward and race directly to the train without a ticket . . . who knows if they will throw me off the train, charge me some ginormous penalty, or what . . . I just figured that getting on the train took precedence over a ticket to ride said train. Remember that I have a plane waiting for me at the end of this train ride, and if I was to make the worship service next day and lead worship . . . well you get the picture; get on the train!
I got to the train with exactly 2 minutes and 41 seconds to spare! Before I got my bags into the racks above, and sank wearily into one of the seats, the train began to pull out the station. Whew! That was really close.
Oh, the ticket? Well the smiling and ever so polite Swiss ticket agent came through my car about 30 minutes into the trip and listened to my whole spiel with a smile on her face and then sold me a train ticket at normal fare. That was a pretty good deal with 2 minutes and 41 seconds to spare.
So if you are running late getting to the airport or train station here in the Hairy Armpit, no one panics or has their blood pressure shooting higher . . . the chances are better than even that whatever mode of transportation you are going to get on, will depart late by Western standards.
On the other hand, if you are running late in Germany or Switzerland . . . oops . . . guess what? You are going to miss your train. And this is where I found myself on Saturday . . . after a blessed week in the West, where everything functions in a predictable rational manner . . . running late because the regional highway into Basel, Switzerland from Germany was closed for repairs . . . so we had to take the scenic route . . . along with thousands of other motorists . . . and we are seriously late.
I really hate that O.J. Simpson style of of running through the airport or whatever transportation hub you find yourself, racing to catch your train plane or automobile. But once again, here I am doing just that. I am too old for this crap!
I decided to take my chances with the train steward and race directly to the train without a ticket . . . who knows if they will throw me off the train, charge me some ginormous penalty, or what . . . I just figured that getting on the train took precedence over a ticket to ride said train. Remember that I have a plane waiting for me at the end of this train ride, and if I was to make the worship service next day and lead worship . . . well you get the picture; get on the train!
I got to the train with exactly 2 minutes and 41 seconds to spare! Before I got my bags into the racks above, and sank wearily into one of the seats, the train began to pull out the station. Whew! That was really close.
Oh, the ticket? Well the smiling and ever so polite Swiss ticket agent came through my car about 30 minutes into the trip and listened to my whole spiel with a smile on her face and then sold me a train ticket at normal fare. That was a pretty good deal with 2 minutes and 41 seconds to spare.
1 comment:
They would have charged me double and probably thrown me off. You are some kind of smooth!
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