I was looking forward to my cruise on the Danube, with my flight departing from Manchester. I live in Durham, I'm 80 years old with a visual impairment, so of course for the entire journey I requested assistance. This was speedily confirmed so my token had landed on a ladder. Up I went. But I found that there was no direct train to Manchester Airport when I needed it. 

So I slid down a snake. LNER's Steve at Durham was extremely helpful and saw me to my seat and he said he would advise Leeds, where my first change was, because I had just nine minutes to get my next connection. Up a ladder! But my Trans Pennine train was late arriving at Leeds, so I missed my connection. Down a snake. The special assistance at Leeds station failed to appear. Snake. The kindness of other travellers helped me and my luggage to a later train.

The Northern train from Leeds to Manchester was extremely crowded with people standing. Down another snake. But I was granted a seat. A little ladder. Of course, I was now late for my TPE train from Manchester Piccadilly to Manchester Airport. Another snake. Again assistance failed to appear.

Fortunately, I had arranged for airport hotel accommodation overnight before my flight, being well aware of TPE's reputation for poor timekeeping. At the airport station, Nicola was very helpful. A ladder. The hotel at the airport had my booking so that was a ladder, at last.

Despite the extreme heat in central Europe, the cruise was lovely, by the way. That probably deserves a few ladders.

Assistance at Budapest Airport was good, but the flight was almost three hours late, so I arrived at Manchester in the small hours of the morning. A slippery snake. But once again in the hotel at the airport had the booking and I managed a few hours’ sleep before what I hoped would be a seamless train journey home to Durham.

I am an optimist by nature, but my optimism was sorely tried by the British rail system. In fact, to call it a system is something of a misnomer. I decided to get an earlier train from the airport to Manchester Piccadilly just in case of more snakes. Arriving at Manchester Piccadilly, from where I was scheduled to get a direct train through to Durham, I fell into a snake pit. A young Northern Rail lady, whose name I had better not reveal, consulted her phone and informed me I was at the wrong station. Down a snake! I should be at Manchester Victoria! She kindly told me how to get a taxi. Breathless and anxious, my luggage and I arrived at Manchester Victoria. I went to the area for special assistance clearly marked in yellow, but there was nobody there. Snake. 

So I went into the ticket office nearby and asked from where my TPE train to Durham would leave. He informed me it would leave from Manchester Piccadilly! I told him I had just been there and had been sent to Manchester Victoria. Another snake. He consulted his phone. He confirmed that the TPE train I needed would leave from platform 2 in 15 minutes from Manchester Piccadilly. How many snakes is that worth? 

Outside again in a taxi and back to Manchester Piccadilly. I could see the platform numbers as they are quite large so, dragging my case, I made my way along to platform 2 where, sure enough, a TPE train was waiting. A TPE man confirmed that this train to Newcastle would stop at Durham. Could this be a ladder? I was then approached by the same young lady who worked for Northern Rail who asked why I had come back. I simply pointed at the waiting TPE train, around which whistles were being blown, and dispatch gadgets were being waved and told her that that was my train. 

I was now teetering at the top of another snake. As she and I scurried as quickly as possible along the platform a nice TPE man pressed the button to open the door and I was on the train! A ladder! No assistance was available to locate my seat, but this I managed. The final ladder was that the train arrived in Durham on time.

This whole experience somehow encapsulates the insanity of the fragmentation of the rail system due to privatisation. One can only hope that Great British Rail, when it arrives, will remedy this chaos. Over to you, Mr Burnham!

Patrick Notchtree