I had occasion to go to Manchester On Thursday, to attend a day of workshops at an institution of higher learning.
It all started off quite well. It was a pleasant morning and the train trip across the Peak District and Pennines between Sheffield and Manchester has to be amongst the most beautiful in the world (if you discount the bit out through Sheffield and the bit once you get towards Stockport!).
I always but always leave lots of extra time, when heading to events like this in places that I am not familiar with. It's amazing how often the little maps they send have no bearing on reality, and how easy it is to get misplaced.
On this occasion, however, the maps were splendid and I didn't get misplaced at all. So far so going well, although I was of course extremely early for the event. No matter. Early is better than late in my view.
At this point, it all descended into a shambles.
I found the building where the workshops were to be held. The receptionist had no idea what I was talking about, had never heard of the organisation in question, didn't know any workshops were being held and couldn't think where I should be.
She looked at the program I had printed out and brought with me. Her eye alighted on the word "librarians" in the heading. Aha!!!!! The workshops must be in the library. Go there.
Off I went. No. Not being held there. The program quite clearly states which building I should be in. Go back there.
So I did. No. she still had no idea. What contact phone number did I have? Oh - that was her number. Hmmmmmmmmmmm.
She consulted the room bookings sheet. Oh look - some of the sessions will be in this room. Go there.
I was quite early so instead I went to a cafe and had a cup of tea and a biscuit. Then I went in search of the workshops.
No joy.
I went back to the reception desk where a new lady had arrived. Oh, she said. These events usually start with refreshments for early arrivals in the staff refectory. Go there.
So I did. And there, in a far corner, was a table with a tiny sign proclaiming that refreshments could be had there by people coming to the workshop. And there was a slightly bewildered organiser, wondering where we were.
He despatched a runner to the reception desk to tell them what was going on and where we were all meeting. And eventually, people found us.
The workshops were good. Informative. Interesting. Useful.
Lunchtime. In the staff refectory. Mostly sandwiches, with a bowl of dip, some chicken skewers, and some crisps. Vegetarian options? Cheese and tomato sandwiches ( no idea if the cheese was veggie friendly) and egg mayonnaise sandwiches (no idea if they were free range). Not labelled as vegetarian. And on a platter with tuna mayonnaise, prawn mayonnaise and some other fish and mayonnaise sandwiches. So not vegetarian, then. And not much use if you happen not to like mayonnaise. The dip was vegetarian. It was also horrible!
The little cakes with coffee were from the freezer. I know this. The middles were still slightly frozen.
They forgot about our afternoon tea. There was nothing there at all, until people were scrambled to sort it out.
I won't tell you which institution of learning it was that was so shambolic. But it wasn't the main University in Manchester (which is where the organisers are located - they had been told that librarians would be much more familiar with the other place so they should hold it there. None of us had ever been to the venue before. Most of us had been to the main University!)
I realise that ours was an entirely external event - but there were people there from 18 or 19 Universities from across the country. You'd think they might have made something of an effort!! I won't be holding an event there. I won't be applying for any jobs there!
I emerged from the day's activities to find that it was raining. I trotted along to the Oxford Road station to find that my train had been delayed by a few minutes. Then a few minutes more. Then even more. And more. And more. Then there came an announcement that we should all go to Platform 2. So we did. To find Platform 2 absolutely choc-a-bloc with people. Down we all squished. (At this point someone coming down the stairs behind us, in exasperated and irritated tones cried "Ex-Quooooooooooooose me!!!!!!!" Not quite sure where she wanted us all to move to - the tracks, perhaps?)
Anyway. Eventually, in came the Norwich train. Lots and lots and lots of people came off the train. Then lots more. In the meantime, the Liverpool train had also come in on the other side of the double platform. Lots and lots and lots of people got off that. Then lots more. The platform had no room now even for a tiny, tiny mouse. Then it was declared that all the people waiting on this side for the Norwich train would need to move to that side, and all the people on that side waiting for the Liverpool train should move to this side, including all the people who had just got off both trains. Ready ...... Steady ..... GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!
Actually, it was quite dangerous. Had someone slipped and fallen - this is where catastrophes are made. And it took ages to get everyone to the right side of the platform.
Miraculously, I got a seat.
And off we trundled. Slowly. Stopping at various stations, including Sheffield and Chesterfield on the way to Norwich.
Until a soft, crackly announcement came over the loudspeaker. (Shhhh. We don't want to disturb people. Be quiet lest they hear us) They had just heard from the Fat Controller that the train would be diverting around Sheffield and therefore not stopping there. Nor would the train be making it scheduled stop at Dore, a tiny, tiny station where few trains stop. Passengers for Sheffield should not be enticed by the train stopping at Dronfield, for very few trains stop there either. Instead, they should carry on to Chessie and change trains there.
Talk about confusion. Talk about fury. Talk about a thousand or so Very Cross Chappies. I'm glad I wasn't the person they were all yelling at, nor the station personnel in Chesterfield, nor the recipients of the emails and letters the next day.
I didn't mind. I was going to Chesterfield anyway. And it made up a bit of the time we had lost with all the delays.
Talk about a day of shambles.
The workshop was good though
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