While my faith in bus services may be at an all time low, today a little bit of faith was restored in our trains. Or at least Virgin Trains.

Returning from a work trip to Warwick University (whose campus is deceptively nearer Coventry than it’s namesake) we had seats booked on a specific train. I’m not a fan of advanced tickets, as soon as I purchase one I know the gods are plotting a well timed disruption to ensure I miss the one and only service it is valid on. Lo and behold despite booking at taxi 4 hours in advance it failed to show up and the taxi rank wasn’t where we thought it would be. We arrived at the station in time to see our train pulling away from the platform. Our second train was delayed at Birmingham New Street just long enough for us to reach the platform and see that pull away too.

By this point two thoughts were running through my mind. Firstly ‘well I guess we’re standing for the next 3 hours’. As we know these days peak trains are packed beyond capacity in standard class, while the first class carridges have 4 seats per person. Obviously train companies decided while society tries to pretend the social classes may not still exist, upper class passengers should really not be expected to mix with the working and middle class rif raff. Though soon entire trains will only be occupied by the richest people or those working for the richest companies as the rest of us are priced out of the rail network and onto airplanes.

My second thought was ‘we’re going to have pay an arm and a leg for new tickets’. Somewhat academic as it was a business trip and all costs would be reimbursed. And the boss was paying on the credit card. So the actual impact on me was nil. But all the same.

So you can imagine my surprise as we bundled onto the train and claimed two unbooked seats together. Despite the train being busy. However the best was yet to come. As the ticket inspector, or train managers as they’re called these days, moved closer towards us I clocked him as a potential jobsworth. I should not judge. I could not have been more wrong.

The train manager took our tickets and my boss briefly explained about the taxi. I elaborated to make it clear it was not of our own idiocy we were on the wrong train. I have a long and expansive history with trains and I do not wish to be mistaken for one of those fools who does not understand the concept of advance tickets. I am a seasoned train traveller and as such I deserve respect for being in an unfortunate situation completely out of my control.

My honest face and tone of voice won him over (or possibly just wanting to shut me up) and he said he’d see what he could wangle to make it as cheap as possible for us to remain on the train (I was not volunteering to hike up the M1!) I then added that although the original ticket was not a Young Persons, I did have my railcard. Could that lessen the penalty further? He said in hushed tones that he shouldn’t, but he could, as long as I didn’t mention it if I was in this situation again. I gave him a knowing nod. He charged me (or rather my boss) a mere £18.

I know some of you are thinking ‘Hang on a just one minute! You’re fast heading for 27 and you’re railcard should have expired long ago!’ I assure you there’s no illegal jiggery pokery going on. I was advised I could renew my railcard upto and including the day before my 26th birthday, meaning that I have it until two days before I’m 27. Those of you that haven’t yet tipped the early-to-late-20s boundary I suggest you follow my lead. May it save you hundreds of extra pennies and pounds.

Maybe this experience actually shows that the rail companies have a long way to go if a benevolent guard and a couple of free seats can make my day. But I tell you what it made three hours of potential hell into something just about bearable. And it made me smile!