My View - Wednesday 29th August 2018 

I still owe someone a fiver for parking after #NorthernFail forced me into various car share scenarios last week. The problem is, I’ve no idea what her name is or where she lives. I was just grateful that a fellow commuter was kind enough to bundle a few of us into her camper van when the cancelled sign flashed up once more. I’d enthusiastically suggested chipping in for the NCP ticket, before realising I only had coppers or a credit card. So now I’m just hoping to bump into her on platform two again.  

I did glean some information about my driver’s life - she wants to set up her own baby-cuddling scheme in a hospital, was going to France the following day and has a son at the same school as my daughter. In fact, it’s amazing what you learn about strangers when you’re suddenly thrust together. One of the other indebted passengers had recently become a dad for the first time and told us that his wife found out that morning that she might lose her job due to the House of Fraser takeover.  

Later that week, I shared the back seat with a toddler, who's mum sold beer into bars but was teetotal. She was on her way to a Baby Rave at Leeds City Varieties. Apparently, it’s like a mini festival, with music that adults like. The chap in the front seat worked for the NHS and had the impossible/thankless role of ‘trying to make things flow more smoothly’.  

I merrily divulged snippets of my own life with my new compadres, telling them I became a great aunt at the beginning of the month after my niece gave birth to the beautiful Anya Lucinda. They feigned interest in my story about taking the cats to be neutered and nodded sympathetically when I admitted to a meltdown in M & S during the school uniform shop. 

We seamlessly segued into current affairs, concluding that 60-year-old Madonna, although a fabulous singer and performer, should leave the botox in the box and do her bit for women by revealing some realistic wrinkles around her knees. I’ll admit, my mind drifted a bit when Boris and Brexit were broached, but I was all-ears again during the safer territory of what we were all having for tea.  

Our unanimous derision of the train company cemented our car share coterie. And even though I’m not usually one to kick up a fuss, my new mates made me promise to go log on to www.northernrailway.co.uk/make-a-complaint when I got to work. I was so late when I arrived though, that I didn’t have time and now it’s become another thing on my list of ‘stuff I really ought to do before the end of the summer holidays’.  

Speaking of holidays, if any of those who I travelled with are reading this, I had a great time in Bedale thanks, and yes, I did embarrass my children by screaming on the zip wire.