What a morning. I finally got myself convinced that going for a one day meeting in Paris was not such a bad idea, till this morning. First of all it is getting out of your bed so much eelier than usual, lately I do have tendency to get out of bed by 7.45 instead of this morning 6.15.
Also it became very apparent that getting ready "quickly" is something that I need to redefine in my mind, together with an even better sense of co-ordination and planning. Meaning not forgetting the belt upstairs or having to go back up and down the stairs for the damn phone that is still there.
Nevertheless we managed to get ourselves with the help of a friend to the train station, where the first part of my journey started: Mechelen - Brussels South. The wonderful delights of peak hour train visit. First obstacle: damn the automatic escalators are not functioning and no elevator ... completely out of breath I finally arrive on the platform just in time to see the train roll in with the door just in front of me, but too far away. A horde of wolves jumped in front of me almost making me lose my balance.
Ok, I can understand, see that you are the one missing the last seat, in my mind nothing to worry because my train of thought was more like: I’m handicapped for the moment; one person will help me and offer his seat without a problem. But I guess the fact the train was arriving at the platform furthest away from the entrance, the broken escalator, all bad omens I guess.
Getting on the train was already a problem with a bunch of freaking zombies just watching me instead of handing a hand. When I finally managed to get on board the little hall had 4 seats:
seat 1: long haired alternativo; seat 2: Moroccan young lady with loud music; seat 3: public servant I guess, neatly dressed with moustache and his briefcase; seat 4:youngster with Adidas blue - yellow trainers listening to hip hop
situation: me on crutches not resting my foot trying to stay upright whilst the trains starts to move, next to me 3 other people standing (one of them smelled really really nice ) and 4 sitting down. overall feeling: an uncomfortable silence with nobody even daring to watch me or to look in my direction.
I felt the urge coming in me to start shouting on the ones sitting down. The alternativo I imagine was still yesterday signing a petition against racism and discrimination and believes that Tibet should be liberated; but handing of his seat: no way. The Moroccan girl always feeling so bad about being discrimated but being in a position to hand over a seat as a gesture: no way. The youngster in adidas yellow bleu trainers complaining that the world today is an evil place and that he is always misunderstood did not understand in his small brain that standing on crutches on one leg in a moving train is not really easy. And the public servant who kissed his wife goodbye at breakfast this morning wondering why people are so rude to him at the office cannot even find the decency to do something nice himself.
And I’m even not talking about the other 3 who could have said something or at least helped a bit. Conclusion: you are on your own buster, sweat it out because it is not my problem you are a bit less mobile.
Well I could go on and on about my frustration this morning, especially when also the automatic escalators where not functioning in Brussels and I arrived at the complete opposite part of the station as of where I needed to catch the train to Paris in which I’m writing this now. But I need to stop and regain my smile and look at it as an experience I will never forget :-)
Happy travels
Toon
2 comments:
Did you try asking? Hurts the pride I know, but shames people terribly into giving up their seats :) And, you end up with a comfortable ride!
i refused to ask ... the handicap was very very visible and i drew the attention by going like "waaaaaaawwww whoooooo" when the train was changin rails :-)
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