Crazy Digital World

Research versus Experience

Last week, I thoroughly researched the public transport options. There is a local bus to Dublin – yes, but it took two hours to cover 66 kms/40 miles. I settled on driving to a train station where I could (alledgedly) park for the day. I had downloaded the parking app and researched the parking options. The first car park was full. The second car park had a space, but confusingly, seemed also to be a Supervalu carpark which had clamping in operation signs. The third car park was underground, and it was full too. Back to Supervalu. I had to get out of the car to go to the parking meter to find the appropriate location code. I tried typing it in but it was raining so hard the phone screen stopped working. Even though I had left adequate extra time, I was beginning to get frazzled at this stage, as the arrival of only train that met my needs was imminent. I got back into the car to try and get the rest of the information into the parking app. No mobile signal. Phone froze. At this stage, I was ready to throw the phone out the window and reverse over it. I suddenly realised, hey, I can use the actual physical parking meter. Doh! I put in the full day amount and the machine printed out a ticket. It was illegible except for the starting time. I rustled around in the car for a biro and wrote, paid €4.50 on it, stuck it in the window and said a prayer to the parking angels.

Rushing over to the station, I remembered from my research on Irish Rail that it said the Leap card could be validated on the platform or the train. With the lashing rain, I couldn’t see a validation box on the platform so I assumed there was one on the train. The train was going to be 7 minutes late, so I thought I would pay for the day’s parking again on the app, just to be sure I wasn’t clamped if there was a Jobs Worth parking inspector in Supervalu. I got to the point of putting in my credit card details and – no signal. The phone froze. My blood pressure spiked and I growled, much to the consternation of the man beside me in the rain shelter, who moved away from me. And who could blame him. The train was approaching, and I considered throwing the phone on the tracks in front of it. Instead, I got on the train, and looked for the validation device in one, two, three carriages, and the spaces between them. No device. My blood pressure shot up again, and I started mentally rehearshing explaining this to an inspector. I leaped off the train at the next station, waving my card in the bemused faces of a couple, and said, “Do you know where I can validate this thing?” and the man said, yes, up at the bridge. No way could I get there and back in time. The woman said, “Ah don’t bother your head, just say it to yer man, or better still, say nothing.” On a different day, I would have laughed. As it turned out, no inspector got on the train, and after my three unsuccessful attempts to get through the turnstile at the far end, it stayed open after someone and I shot out like a March hare.

The Power of Asking for Help

The government is all gung ho about getting cars off the road, but the reality is that public transport is patchy, especially in rural areas. My experience yesterday reminded me the value of keeping things as basic as possible and not relying on phone signals or apps in this alledgedly technological world. Especially if you are like a bunny in headlights after eye drops and can’t read. I have travelled all over the world, and yesterday’s trip was more stressful than any vintage goats-and-chickens bus speeding along a narrow road in the high mountains. If the government really want people to use public transport, they need to make it much easier. I will have my diatribe ready for the next politician that rings my doorbell. I nearly feel sorry for them.