A report issued by the TUC today shows that rail fares are rising twice as fast as commuters levels of despair. The trades union believes that pretty soon there will be no commuters left, as one day they will en-masse step in front of a late arriving hell carriage, rather than ride in it.

The Herald used most of it’s editorial budget and a Wonga loan to get a peek time ticket to Manchester and interview some commuters. I spoke to human cattle and broken spirit Sophie Peon from Belfield who said, 

“You hope against hope that for your money you might get a seat, or that the toilets might work, or that the coach will be warm in winter and cool in summer. Or at least on time. But I speak to you now, 3 hours late. Squashed up against the window with a fat guys belly balanced on my head, a shell of the young vibrant woman I used to be.”

Nigel Drudge from Balderstone spoke to me from the luggage rack during the 5th hour of our internment;

“I have to work to pay for the rail fare to get to work. But the journey to work on the rail sucks out my will to live, let alone my will to work. I’m going to end it all. Get me a sandwich from the buffet will you.”

Towards the end of the epic voyage the train windows began to melt from the sheer despair of people who realised they were so late for work that they would have to work into the night and into tomorrow to make up the time. Before making the 2 day pilgrimage home once more.

When we were finally discharged from the carriages like waste pork products, I managed to catch up with Sophie again while she was being attended to by paramedics;

“That actually wasn’t the worst trip. One time I had to stand in the toilet bowl with 3 other people. At least I have my holiday in Center Parcs to look forward to.”