A funny thing happened on the way to Borough this evening. The train was delayed as we pulled into Old Street. The driver said there was a faulty train ahead being taken out of service. He warned us that lots of passengers—who’d had to get off the faulty train—would want to get onto our train, and he wished us good luck.
Sure enough, it was a bit crowded, and, as we approached Moorgate, we had to wait to allow the faulty train to clear the station.
Then things started to get weird.
As we approached Bank, the automated PA said “The next station is closed. This train will not stop at the next station.”
And we didn’t. No matter, we collectively thought, silently. We’ll be able to get off at London Bridge. But the same thing happened. The driver came over the PA, and told us he wasn’t quite sure why this had happened.
When the same thing happened at Borough, he said he had asked the controller what was going on—and was waiting to hear back.
My fellow commuters appeared to be slightly worried, but were taking all this in good humour. There were a few sighs. Myself, I was wondering what would happen if we had a bomb on board, and had to keep going all the way to Morden. As you know, one does not simply walk into Morden.
As it happens, the train did stop at the next station—Elephant and Castle. Those of us who had been trapped on the train since Bank or London Bridge got up to leave.
But the doors remained closed.
The driver again announced over the PA that the train automated driving system was playing up and was not opening the doors. Finally however, and much to our collective relief, the doors did open. The driver said that there were obviously problems with the newly installed automated system.
“It’s Bob Crow‘s revenge,” I said, deadpan.
The entire car’s passengers creased up, and went upon their way, somewhat happier, I hope, than they may otherwise have done.