Backwards People Vs Forwards People

One thing about travelling on the train is that a lot of seats face away from the direction of travel. This seems to be the case more for trains than for any other form of transport. When you fly on an airline, generally, all the seats face forwards. In some smaller planes, like corporate aircraft, and in helicopters, there are sometimes backwards facing seats, but not on airlines. One exception is the jump seats for cabin crew. These are often backwards facing. Some people don't like travelling facing backwards. They insist on facing forwards. I call these people, "forwards people." A minority prefer facing to the rear, so I call them, "backwards people." Others don't care, but I don't have a label for them.
Some forwards people claim they will throw up, if they ride in a backwards facing seat. I prefer facing forwards, myself. When I was younger, I went o great lengths to avoid riding backwards, but I never threw up because of it. As I have gotten older, I have found that I am less concerned with whether I end up in a backwards seat, or not. My main concern is to get where I am going and to have a seat. During my trip to Paris, at Christmas, I learned that my good friend, Barbara is a forwards person. She is one of those who claim riding backwards will make her vomit, so on the Eurostar, she insisted on moving from our reserved seats, which were backwards, to some forwards ones. I let her get on with it and stayed put.
The other day, I was on a crowed train. I ended up riding backwards. As there were so few seats available, I took the first one I could find. Looking to my right, across the aisle, I noticed that there were three blond women riding backwards, facing three brunettes riding forward. Is there a correlation between hair color and direction of travel preference? I feel empowered, because I can ride in either direction. Forwards people sometimes seem like a pain in the ass, when they start stressing over a seat. I've noticed one man, on the first train I take in the morning, who seems to be a backwards person. Even when a forward seat is available, he will take a backward one. I wonder if he'll be sick, if he rides forward? As I am a person who can ride in either direction, I wonder if that's why I haven't come up with a name for us?
So, which are you? Are you happy the way you are? Do you think direction of travel preference is due to nature or nurture? Can a forwards person ever be cured of his limitation? I just thought of something! Rowboats are primarily backwards facing. I wonder if forwards people are more susceptible to seasickness? Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily...life is but a dream.

Bench Man

Having spent the past three months commuting by train, I've started to recognize some of the same people travelling at the same time, every weekday. One of these is a guy I have dubbed, "Bench Man." He wears a suit and looks like a business type. My suspicion at his profession is reinforced by the fact that he heads towards London every weekday morning. That's not unusual, as there are lots of business types on the eastbound train, in the morning. Many of them fumble with Blackberrys.
What's so special about Bench Man? Every time I see him, he's standing in front of one of the benches provided for passengers to sit on,while they wait at the station. That's his unique selling point. He stands in front of a bench. He stands so close to the bench, that he blocks one of the spaces on it, yet I never see him sitting, just standing in front. So why does he do it? This inconsiderate goon wastes one of the limited bench spaces and hes not even using it himself. If he would just move a couple of feet away from the bench, someone else could have a seat. Are you a Bench Man, blocking other people from using something, while deriving no benefit for yourself? Am I the only person who is considerate of others? I enjoy a small thrill when I arrive before Bench Man and sit in the spot where he usually stands. Gosh, the benches are ugly and not very comfortable, either.

Buses Versus Trains

Towards the end of last year, certain unexpected bills caused a cash flow shortage for me. Part of my coping strategy was to switch from taking the bus to my day job, to taking the train. The advantages are: the train is cheaper and I can pay for my ticket using a credit card. The latter preserves cash. The disadvantages are: I have a 25-30 minute walk to and from the train station and I have to get up a half-hour earlier. Originally, I meant this to only be a temporary measure. Once the cash flow crisis eases, I intend to go back to the bus. The bus is more convenient, as I only have to walk around the corner to get it. However, now that I have gotten used to the train, I am wondering, should I stay with it?
The enforced walking has caused me to loose more weight, which can only be a good thing. I am now getting an hour of exercise, every day. Also, my weekly train ticket can be used to get me discounts on travel, to and from London. There are also loads of free newspapers available on the train. I could pay extra and add the bus from the town centre to my weekly train ticket. Then I wouldn't have to walk home, although I would still have to walk to the station in the morning, as the buses aren't running that early. If I did add the bus, I would lose the financial savings I am currently enjoying, using the train. What do you think I should do?

Old York

When I heard the Station Manager of Seaside Radio mention going to a museum of trains, I couldn't contain myself. Turning my reaction to this overheard bit of information into a joke, I berated him, mildly of course, for never telling me about this museum. His reaction? He promised to take me to it. Yesterday, that promise was fulfilled.
After I arranged myself in the back seat of my boss' car, the Manager's acquaintance, Dave, climbed into the front seat. With minimal delay, we were on our way. Dave, who was visiting from Northern Ireland, was quiet at first, but my constant banter eventually got through to him. On the way to York, we stopped in a small town, to visit another station. It seems Dave is a bit of a radiophile, not to mention a borderline train spotter. My boss talked tech with the station's management, while Dave looked on, seemingly enraptured. My interest waned after a few minutes. Once you've seen one bunch of radio equipment, you've seen them all, right? Besides, no one was paying any attention to me. It became a bit more interesting when they finally took us to see the studio. That would be the bit where I would work. The guy on air was about 100 years older than I thought he would be, listening to him in the car. The show he was doing sounded awful, to me. While technically competent, it was just the same old thing: a tired top 40 clone. A robot could have performed just as well.
Back on the road, we covered the rest of the distance to York fairly quickly. I have never been to the city before. It's an old, walled city. Founded in the year 71, the walls are older than New York, where I come from. We found the cheaper parking, across the street from the National Railway Museum, that one of the guys at the radio station we visited had recommended. It was almost full, but we managed to come across a space. On the grounds of the museum, a very large Ferris wheel was glistening in the sunlight. Known as the Yorkshire Wheel, it's a smaller imitation of the London Eye. Once in the entrance hall to the museum, we were pleased to discover that entrance to the museum is free. My boss asked if Dave and I wanted to go on the wheel. With his Northern Ireland accent, this sounded like "whale." I was trying to figure out what whale he was talking about, when it finally dawned on me that he meant the wheel. Since he was paying, I said yes. So did Dave. We all agreed that we would tour the museum first, then ride on the "whale." My boss acquired our "whale" tickets as well as our free museum tickets, then we immersed ourselves in railway hardware.
If you like trains, then the National Railway Museum is for you. I've always had a love affair with trains, since the earliest days of my childhood. I was interested in going to the museum, because my old friends, the husband and wife couple, Tim and Barbara, are due to visit me for Christmas. Tim is more into trains than I am, so I wanted to scout out this attraction, with a view toward taking them there in December. The National Railway Museum is home to many old locomotives, including famous ones, like the Flying Scotsman and the Mallard. If your taste runs more toward the modern, there are life-sized models of a Japanese Bullet train as well as the Eurostar. The museum offers more than just locomotives. There are railway cars, including retired carriages for the royal train, used by British kings and queens. On display are all sorts of items relating to railroads. Signs, signals, promotional material, plates, and furniture. I expect Tim will love it.
Once we had our fill of the trains, we made our way to the "whale." It may seem like a naff imitation of the London Eye, but rather than crawling around once, like the Eye, it is run at normal speed, like a traditional Ferris wheel. The view is wonderful. From the top, you can see not only the entire city of York, but the surrounding countryside. There's also a bird's eye view of the working, city train station. The rail lines run right by the Railway Museum. Another plus to the Yorkshire wheel is that the price is a fraction of the cost of the London Eye.
When our "whale" ride had finished, we set off to see the city centre. All of us were feeling a bit lazy, so we decided to ride a "free," miniature tram into town, made up to look like a steam train. One was waiting to depart just as we came out of the museum. My boss soon discovered that there was a charge to ride the tram he thought was "free." We were looking forward to riding into town too much to quibble, at that point, so we paid up. I was starving and my boss promised to take us to a restaurant which had great hamburgers. We set off in search of this culinary paradise. During the ensuing search, we wandered the streets of the old town. The old buildings now house modern shops, pubs, and restaurants. Narrow roads are bordered on either side by Tudor style architecture. This will appeal more to Barbara. Just when my boss was about to give up and settle for any old restaurant, we stumbled across it. I was so hungry, I didn't even notice the name. I'd had nothing since my train ride in to Hull that morning and by this point, darkness had fallen. I think all I could manage to mumble by that point was "food, food, food!" When the waiter came to take our order, I opted for a "Cajun Burger," and a Coke. Our timing was great, because as we waited for our food to arrive, the restaurant, which was nearly empty when we came in, filled up in a matter of minutes.
After dinner, which was tasty, we agreed we'd walk back to the car. Having rested our tired feet during dinner, the walk didn't seem too bad. I fell asleep during the drive back to Withernsea. I needed to get some rest before my marathon, seven hour radio show, starting at Midnight. My boss paid me quite a compliment by telling Dave that he must listen to my show. He even offered to loan Dave a radio to enable him to do so. You can also listen, via the internet, at www.seasideradio.co.uk . My show, "Night Waves," starts at Midnight, Saturday night and runs till 7AM, Sunday morning, UK time. Those times are five hours earlier on the east coast of the US, and eight hours earlier on the west coast.