Failing at public transport

Today started well. I was running a little late this morning and arrived at the station just in time to see the train arrive. So I made a rare dash and leapt aboard.

You know that feeling when, just as the doors close, you realise you’re on the wrong train?

I do.

I should have been heading south-west towards Brussels. Instead, I was on the train going nort-west to Antwerp. This was not good and, in a state of mild panic, I pulled out my phone and fired up the train timetables app in order to figure out where I was and how to get back on the right track.

And then the conductor appeared.

I admitted my mistake as I handed over my ticket and he kindly informed me that to jump off at the next station and change trains twice was insane (my words, not his) and would likely leave me stranded by a missed connection on some tiny train stop in the middle of nowhere.

Far better, he said, would be to accept my fate and go all the way to Antwerpen Berchem, from which I could take the intercity directly to Brussels.

I did, of course, follow his advice and comfortably made the connection, finally arring at work an hour later than usual. And me being me, I was on edge for the entire journey which isn’t helped by the fact that it’s so dark in the morning that I can’t look out of the window to see where I am.

But the worst part of this was: No breakfast!

I hope everyone else is having a better Wednesday than me.