Here’s one thing I’m not going to do this year, or any other year for that matter: I am not going to register my details and send a photograph of myself so I can be turned into a number. When I haven’t been turned into a number I’m not going to then sit for hours on end trying in vain to make sure my numberdom ensures me attendance at a popular outdoor festival. I am also not going to, if me being turned into a number and sitting up all night refreshing a page in order to convert said numberdom into a ticket actually worked, go to a shitty field full of people I would likely hate to listen to music I couldn’t give two fucks about and take drugs I absolutely do not want to take.
But hey, maybe that’s just me.
Once I’ve not done any of that, I’m also not going to plaster the Twitter feeds and Facebook walls of my friends with messages about the escapade. For you see, this would indicate the process is in any way, shape or form interesting rather than being what it actually is – an overly convoluted way of buying a ticket. As some would call it: not interesting.
Why there is such an emphasis on a festival that’s been hijacked by the popular media and middle class twerps I do not know. I mean, at least Glastonbury is better than V, but surely there are far more interesting festivals available far cheaper and with a far simpler manner in which you can buy tickets (ones that don’t conjure up Orwellian nightmares, at least). In fact, I know there are.
But hey, maybe that’s just me.
Fuck Glastonbury. Fuck informing everyone you know about the process of buying a ticket. You know what I did today? I refreshed an eBay auction 15 times and eventually lost out on it because my connection went slow just as I was making a last-few-seconds bid. I found that quite exciting. Am I going to tell you all about it? No.
Except for the fact I just did. Still, the point stands. As you were.
I’ve mentioned it before – in fact, I’ve talked about trains a few times before – but I couldn’t find any full on blog about my hatred of train ticket prices. Hence, that’s what you’re getting today. Woo, yeah, etc. You never know, I might be able to work up enough ranty-steam to be able to write something reasonably entertaining today. I won’t, but the hope is there.
I use trains a fair bit – more than I ever have, but less so in recent weeks/months. Why am I using them less? I still live 3.2 billion miles away from my girlfriend, so I should still have to go up to Manchester to see her on a regular basis, right? Well, yes. But a couple of things have changed this recently: one, she came down here a couple of times for ages, and two, I really can’t afford stupid expensive sodding train tickets. I think I’ll concentrate on the latter reason here, lest we fall into a trap of going “I’VE GOT A GIRLFRIEND” for the next couple of hundred words, thus pushing her ever closer towards dumping my ass.
Let’s just put it this way: I get a bus pass each month* which costs me £52. This isn’t cheap. Still, it gives me a month of unlimited travel on the Yellow buses through Bournemouth – hence, it is useful. A train to Manchester and back from Bournemouth costs £98.70 (ninety-eight pounds seventy pence). Two trips, totalling 9-10 hours, costs a fraction of my wage I don’t even dare work out, lest it scare the shit out of me. When Bournemouth Airport’s second terminal/outhouse opens (unless it’s already opened) I will be able to get flights to and from Manchester for around the same price, if not cheaper. Flights on planes. Not a shitty train, taking five hours and invariably caused undue stress by engineering works or a leaf on the track: a metal tube that glides through the air to Manchester in less than an hour. For roughly the same price. I fail to see why these two options should cost the same, I really do.
So thanks trains. Thanks for being so utterly maddening you’re one of – if not the – most talked about subjects on this blog. Thanks a fucking lot.
*Though as soon as my new shoes arrive that’ll be a thing of the past. Coalition-style cost-cutting measures are GO!