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Yet more public transport desperation


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It’s definitely a common theme of mine now (it seems to be the only place that I ever see anyone else desperate!), but here’s an account of a couple more things that I’ve seen while out and about travelling…

It was Grand National weekend in Liverpool a few weeks ago. For those who don’t know, it’s probably the biggest horse racing event in the UK each year, and attracts thousands of people who seem to go with the sole intention of getting very very drunk. I’ve only been once, didn’t enjoy it to be honest, but I did at least experience the arrangements for getting those thousands of people back into the city centre – basically, there’s a train every few minutes from the station across the road, with a big queuing system out the front of the station, but no toilets on the trains. I didn’t see anything when I was on the train back, but there must be loads of desperate situations with all the drink that’s been drunk and that big queue too.

Anyway, I was in the city centre on Ladies’ Day on Grand National weekend this year, just as the crowds were arriving back from the racecourse. I popped into McDonalds, as you do, because I needed to grab something to eat, everywhere was rammed and I didn’t have much time. This was just opposite the station where the trains were bringing them back into the city, so a lot of them were doing the same as me. They’d closed off the upstairs section, where the toilets were, presumably because it was so busy and they wanted to get people in and out of the building as quickly as possible. There were definitely lots of crossed legs in the queue, although no really obvious shows of desperation.

I finally grabbed my dinner and went to sit on the steps outside the main station to eat it in relative peace and wait there for my train, watching the crowds outside as a lot were heading there for their onward journey. Some seemed very anxious to cross the main road outside and get into the station (and the first opportunity for toilets for a while), but there wasn’t a lot to see!

I headed inside after I’d finished anyway, just as my train arrived, to see the usual collection of people standing around waiting for it. One girl stood with tightly crossed legs, next to a couple of friends, but I didn’t think much of it. No-one was allowed on the train at first, so that the cleaners could get on and do what they do, which seemed to frustrate this small group! They approached the driver and asked how long it’d be until the train left, and the girl with the crossed legs looked relieved when she was told that it’d be at least twenty minutes – “phew, I’ve got time to go for a wee then” – and they left the scene promptly.

As we came through a smaller station in the centre of the next city – quite a busy station, but with no facilities at all, in contrast to the main stations nearby - we were greeted by the sight of a man literally waddling towards the end of the platform, quite openly holding himself before unzipping as he nearly (but not quite) reached the relative shelter of some sort of structure and letting loose a remarkably strong stream as he was still walking! Earlier that day, I’d seen another man quite openly relieving himself against a ticket machine at a tram stop (not much left to the imagination) so it must have been the day for it…

 

Another day, another journey, this time an early morning one on a train where the toilet had already stopped working. It was only a relatively short journey, so no drama – or so I thought. It didn’t take long for the guard to reveal her problem to the driver at the first station, after walking through to the front to check tickets – “I needed the toilet before I left, but I was busy talking and I thought I’d wait until I got on here!” (it turns out that she’d travelled on another train from the depot before waiting at another station to pick this one up and start work). She seemed hopeful that she’d have time to use the toilets at the terminus station, where it’d normally wait for a few minutes before going back out to the nearby city (which is where I was going too).

Unfortunately, today wasn’t her day – unusually, the train had to wait at a signal for a freight train to come the other way, which meant that we were a few minutes late into the terminus and they had just enough time to change ends in time to depart again (“I think I’ll be okay – I’ll keep myself busy so I don’t have to think about it”, I think I heard her say). Off we go, then, and it was indeed busy as it’s a peak train into the city now. She kept her composure well, but she’d worked her way back through to the front after a couple of stations and stands to talk to the driver again, crossing her legs tightly, bending forward and pressing her fist into her crotch, partly for effect I’m sure but also as though she was taking the opportunity for some brief respite from having to hide her predicament. “I’m really struggling now”, she admitted, saying that there were a couple of rough bits of track where she’d really had to clench tightly and say “come on, don’t wet yourself now” to herself. Her struggle continued, out of my sight, for about another twenty-five minutes until we finally arrived in the city and she could run off to the toilets on the station.

 

Just another very brief one, on yet another train journey, about an hour long. As soon as the train stopped at one station where we had a couple of minutes before carrying on, the stressed-looking driver emerged from his cab just as a passenger opened the toilet door – right outside the cab door – to go in there. “You’ve got to be joking!”, exclaimed the driver, retreating with a slightly worried look on his face. It was another twenty minutes to the terminus, and the train had barely stopped before he burst through the door once again and pretty much dived into the toilet, which was thankfully (for him) vacant this time!

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The guard story was a nice one, and the train driver one reminded me of an incident at Milton Keynes many years ago. The train stopped there for ages and passengers started complaining then the guard explained that the driver had had to go to the toilet! There was much sarcastic comment when we saw the driver hurrying back to the train.

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On May 22, 2019 at 4:59 PM, WetDave said:

The guard story was a nice one, and the train driver one reminded me of an incident at Milton Keynes many years ago. The train stopped there for ages and passengers started complaining then the guard explained that the driver had had to go to the toilet! There was much sarcastic comment when we saw the driver hurrying back to the train.

This is a problem with train/tram/bus drivers everywhere.  Although the rules require periodic breaks, sometimes the schedule allows only minimal time between runs, and toilet facilities may be inadequate at the terminals.  Women drivers are usually more cautious, so it's more likely that it's male drivers who get caught short.  Stopping for a pee partway through the route is awkward!

I recall a news item regarding union demands for longer breaks for London Tube drivers, saying that you don't want a driver paying more attention to holding in his pee than driving the train.

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On 5/22/2019 at 9:59 PM, WetDave said:

The guard story was a nice one, and the train driver one reminded me of an incident at Milton Keynes many years ago. The train stopped there for ages and passengers started complaining then the guard explained that the driver had had to go to the toilet! There was much sarcastic comment when we saw the driver hurrying back to the train.

Sorry, slow reply, just catching up. When you’ve got to go, though...! On a slightly related note, it’s not unknown for longer distance trains to have to make extended stops at staffed stations for the passengers’ benefit when there’s no working toilet for whatever reason.

On 5/29/2019 at 1:11 PM, Spectator9 said:

This is a problem with train/tram/bus drivers everywhere.  Although the rules require periodic breaks, sometimes the schedule allows only minimal time between runs, and toilet facilities may be inadequate at the terminals.  Women drivers are usually more cautious, so it's more likely that it's male drivers who get caught short.  Stopping for a pee partway through the route is awkward!

I recall a news item regarding union demands for longer breaks for London Tube drivers, saying that you don't want a driver paying more attention to holding in his pee than driving the train.

Over five hours’ continuous driving, generally, for train and bus drivers, I think? The turnaround time at a terminus, on its own, doesn’t count as a break but it might not be long enough to get to the nearest toilets and back. I’d like to think that everyone has access to toilets on their actual breaks though!

I’d have thought that shorter but more frequent formal breaks would be better than longer breaks though, or making sure that there’s suitable toilets at each terminus and enough time to go and use them! I’ve seen a couple of comments from London Underground drivers who have had to run off to a toilet mid-journey though, and it doesn’t seem like it was a big drama for them thankfully. 

On being cautious - I do know that they’re often making the point about the importance of being well hydrated to maintain concentration, so it’s a difficult balancing act, even more so when there’s a trolley with tea being delivered during the journey!

Edited by homeanddry (see edit history)
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Five hours of continuous driving without a pee break might not work for a well-hydrated driver.  He'd spend more time squeezing his willie than driving the train.  I have watched a number of videos of Melbourne, Australia trams, and at about every terminus there is a pair of toilets (labeled male and female) just a 30-second dash from the tram.  

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On 5/29/2019 at 1:11 PM, Spectator9 said:

This is a problem with train/tram/bus drivers everywhere.  Although the rules require periodic breaks, sometimes the schedule allows only minimal time between runs, and toilet facilities may be inadequate at the terminals.  Women drivers are usually more cautious, so it's more likely that it's male drivers who get caught short.  Stopping for a pee partway through the route is awkward!

I recall a news item regarding union demands for longer breaks for London Tube drivers, saying that you don't want a driver paying more attention to holding in his pee than driving the train.

Nappies would be a sensible precaution, at least offers an alternative solution for relief...

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On 5/21/2019 at 10:43 PM, homeanddry said:

It’s definitely a common theme of mine now (it seems to be the only place that I ever see anyone else desperate!), but here’s an account of a couple more things that I’ve seen while out and about travelling…

 

It was Grand National weekend in Liverpool a few weeks ago. For those who don’t know, it’s probably the biggest horse racing event in the UK each year, and attracts thousands of people who seem to go with the sole intention of getting very very drunk. I’ve only been once, didn’t enjoy it to be honest, but I did at least experience the arrangements for getting those thousands of people back into the city centre – basically, there’s a train every few minutes from the station across the road, with a big queuing system out the front of the station, but no toilets on the trains. I didn’t see anything when I was on the train back, but there must be loads of desperate situations with all the drink that’s been drunk and that big queue too.

 

Anyway, I was in the city centre on Ladies’ Day on Grand National weekend this year, just as the crowds were arriving back from the racecourse. I popped into McDonalds, as you do, because I needed to grab something to eat, everywhere was rammed and I didn’t have much time. This was just opposite the station where the trains were bringing them back into the city, so a lot of them were doing the same as me. They’d closed off the upstairs section, where the toilets were, presumably because it was so busy and they wanted to get people in and out of the building as quickly as possible. There were definitely lots of crossed legs in the queue, although no really obvious shows of desperation.

 

I finally grabbed my dinner and went to sit on the steps outside the main station to eat it in relative peace and wait there for my train, watching the crowds outside as a lot were heading there for their onward journey. Some seemed very anxious to cross the main road outside and get into the station (and the first opportunity for toilets for a while), but there wasn’t a lot to see!

 

I headed inside after I’d finished anyway, just as my train arrived, to see the usual collection of people standing around waiting for it. One girl stood with tightly crossed legs, next to a couple of friends, but I didn’t think much of it. No-one was allowed on the train at first, so that the cleaners could get on and do what they do, which seemed to frustrate this small group! They approached the driver and asked how long it’d be until the train left, and the girl with the crossed legs looked relieved when she was told that it’d be at least twenty minutes – “phew, I’ve got time to go for a wee then” – and they left the scene promptly.

 

As we came through a smaller station in the centre of the next city – quite a busy station, but with no facilities at all, in contrast to the main stations nearby - we were greeted by the sight of a man literally waddling towards the end of the platform, quite openly holding himself before unzipping as he nearly (but not quite) reached the relative shelter of some sort of structure and letting loose a remarkably strong stream as he was still walking! Earlier that day, I’d seen another man quite openly relieving himself against a ticket machine at a tram stop (not much left to the imagination) so it must have been the day for it…

 

 

 

Another day, another journey, this time an early morning one on a train where the toilet had already stopped working. It was only a relatively short journey, so no drama – or so I thought. It didn’t take long for the guard to reveal her problem to the driver at the first station, after walking through to the front to check tickets – “I needed the toilet before I left, but I was busy talking and I thought I’d wait until I got on here!” (it turns out that she’d travelled on another train from the depot before waiting at another station to pick this one up and start work). She seemed hopeful that she’d have time to use the toilets at the terminus station, where it’d normally wait for a few minutes before going back out to the nearby city (which is where I was going too).

 

Unfortunately, today wasn’t her day – unusually, the train had to wait at a signal for a freight train to come the other way, which meant that we were a few minutes late into the terminus and they had just enough time to change ends in time to depart again (“I think I’ll be okay – I’ll keep myself busy so I don’t have to think about it”, I think I heard her say). Off we go, then, and it was indeed busy as it’s a peak train into the city now. She kept her composure well, but she’d worked her way back through to the front after a couple of stations and stands to talk to the driver again, crossing her legs tightly, bending forward and pressing her fist into her crotch, partly for effect I’m sure but also as though she was taking the opportunity for some brief respite from having to hide her predicament. “I’m really struggling now”, she admitted, saying that there were a couple of rough bits of track where she’d really had to clench tightly and say “come on, don’t wet yourself now” to herself. Her struggle continued, out of my sight, for about another twenty-five minutes until we finally arrived in the city and she could run off to the toilets on the station.

 

 

 

Just another very brief one, on yet another train journey, about an hour long. As soon as the train stopped at one station where we had a couple of minutes before carrying on, the stressed-looking driver emerged from his cab just as a passenger opened the toilet door – right outside the cab door – to go in there. “You’ve got to be joking!”, exclaimed the driver, retreating with a slightly worried look on his face. It was another twenty minutes to the terminus, and the train had barely stopped before he burst through the door once again and pretty much dived into the toilet, which was thankfully (for him) vacant this time!

 

I was so desperate one night on the Manchester to Liverpool train I wet my pants in full view of all the other late night travellers -great fun! 

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On 6/2/2019 at 2:14 AM, Spectator9 said:

Five hours of continuous driving without a pee break might not work for a well-hydrated driver.  He'd spend more time squeezing his willie than driving the train.  I have watched a number of videos of Melbourne, Australia trams, and at about every terminus there is a pair of toilets (labeled male and female) just a 30-second dash from the tram.  

Well there’s usually some the opportunity for relief at some point during that time, I’m sure, but often relying on having a few minutes’ turnaround time to run to the station toilets or using the toilet on the train; that turnaround time rapidly sneaking away during disruption and the arrival is late! I doubt anyone would have a problem with delaying the train for a quick visit in that situation, although I did read a post from someone who was complaining that they’d been refused the opportunity to run to the station toilets (some distance away, with no toilet on the train) when they’d asked Control before starting a journey over an hour long into London despite being “absolutely bursting”. I don’t know how that story ended!

On 6/2/2019 at 3:15 PM, nappypants said:

Nappies would be a sensible precaution, at least offers an alternative solution for relief...

I doubt that the Union would be too enamoured by that solution...

23 hours ago, Simonwet said:

I was so desperate one night on the Manchester to Liverpool train I wet my pants in full view of all the other late night travellers -great fun! 

I doubt you’re the first to do so, given the length of the journey and how busy they can get!

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