The Worst Journey in the WorldAspley Cherry Garrard was the youngest member of the Scott Polar Expedition when he and two others lost their tent to the winds of a night-time snowstorm. They spent hours in temperatures below -70°F stumbling about the ice floes hoping they'd bump into it as it was their only hope of survival.
OK, so that was bad, but we reckon you've had worse. We know how hard you lot are.
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chthonic, Thu 7 Sep 2006, 12:40)
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trains = hellMany many years ago and then some I was forced to use the train as my main method of transport (Chiltern Turbo Line, London - The Midlands). One this particular occasion the train I was on decided to come to a complete stop within spitting distance of Royal Leamington Spa station. Nothing so unusual about this, trains have to stop for red lights all the time and within 5mins or so they get on their way.
Not this time.
A gazillion minutes passed, and we're still within sight of the station, which just so happens to be the end of the line for me. It's getting pretty aggravating sitting there thinking that I could just open the door and run down the embankment but to add to my misery my bladder starts telling me that I need to pee. So I make my way down to the only toilet in my part of the train and open the door to find a) the most nauseous smell known to man and b) the toilet bowl is full to the brim with liquid poop. There is no way in hell that I'm going to use this toilet even if it kills me and I return to my seat in the vain hope that the train will move soon.
It doesn't. In fact it continues not to move for what seems like eternity and it really doesn't help that my bladder is adament that it gets emptied sometime very soon.
I am thus forced into the humiliating situation of asking the guard if I can leave my section of the train and move to the other section as the only toilet is out of action. Thankfully the female guard is completely sympathetic to my pain and suffering and I'm pretty sure that this is against some British Rail safety policy, lets me exit the train, clamber along the bank and rejoin the other half. She did accompany me to make sure nothing untoward happened.
I cannot express the relief I felt as I emptied my bladder into the nice and clean toilet that was in the other half of the train. The happiness didn't stop there, for on the seat I moved I found a discarded paper which was enough to keep the boredom away whilst we waited for the train to move. Sure enough, I'd not sat down for that long when when the train finally made the last few yards to Royal Leamington Spa. Apparently the delay was caused by a train further up the track had broken down.. and I got a car after that because I never ever want to go through that again.
(, Wed 13 Sep 2006, 13:10, Reply)
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