Trying trains

Sometimes even good ideas can go wrong as I found to my cost last weekend when I decided to take Harry to Chester on the train – forgetting that the races were on.

The plan was simple. I would catch the train with Harry and Melissa – travelling by car so she could get some uninterrupted shopping done – would meet us there.

I should have known things were about to take a turn for the worse when we had our first drama of the day shortly after we’d arrived at the station. Harry announced he needed the toilet precisely one minute before the train was due to arrive. I did try asking him to hold on but Harry was insistent. So out came the potty while I stared nervously down the track. We made it – just; I was putting the potty back under the buggy as the train pulled in.

Then things really started to go haywire. As the carriage doors opened, I realised just how busy the train was. I refused to give up, though, and squeezed on board somehow – much to the delight of those already packed in like sardines.

Hanging on to Harry with one hand while attempting to fold up the buggy with the other proved too much and in the end I gave up. I settled for standing up, while Harry decided that the most comfortable on my shoulder.

It was not, it has to be said, a particularly pleasant experience; it was extremely hot and the atmosphere was, how can I put this, slightly intimidating given that there was a fair amount of drinking going on. Having said that, the people vying for elbow space around me were very understanding and even helped lift the buggy off when we got to Chester.

All of this, it seems, had no impact on Harry. He was fast asleep by the time we reached Ruabon and proceeded to snore loudly for the rest of the journey. In all, it took about 40 minutes to reach Chester, but having to hold Harry for that length of time made it feel a lot longer. One thing’s for sure, I won’t be using the train on race days in future.