It’s not long since I travelled using the infamous, Public Transport System. I had to attend a course in Chester, not that far from my Liverpool home. Had I travelled in my car, even at peak-time it would have taken me about an hour. Nearly 4 hours later. Fleeced quicker than Dick Turpins record. A missed start. A embarrassed, ‘Sorry I’m late…’ What am I ranting on about, you may well ask? It’s this. Being a car driver in the UK is tantamount to being akin to an Alien. Not just an ordinary Alien, but one that lands from the Planet Mars, just to pay taxes. What taxes? I hear you now. Well everyone has to chip in. Anyway you are well-off. You can afford a car. So why not! It’s not like that though is it? Reading this you know I’m right. The motorist is getting shafted for the good cause. What cause! Us of course!
If public transport is to survive as a viable commodity in the UK then people take note. Its not! Simple as. Drivers bin your car for a day. You no what, you’ll wish you never did, because the alternative is. Some smelly overcrowded: bus, train, tram, horse and cart. Waiting longer than the out-patients in a causality unit (that’s for another rant) is the norm. Often standing in some bombed-out shelter, huddling some pissed stained pole in the hope the wind will blow around it and not through it. The stars that shine through the roof are not some special lights effect that the bus company has ploughed their hard earned profits into. The water that drips onto you is not the rain, but them pissing-on you.
