A Challenging Day – Part One

A Challenging Day – Part One

I wrote this yesterday - then couldn't get it to load! Hence, the fact that it is one day late. it really was a Challenging Day!

This morning, I awoke to six inches of snow on my terrace and an external thermometer reading of -6C. This would not normally matter too much, but today work was taking me to Masson Mills in Matlock Bath. I was expected there for 0915.

How well do you know the Derbyshire Dales? They are beautiful. They are also exposed, hilly, with narrow roads and steep, sharp turns. Consulting the Met Office website informed me that they had had a lot of snow in Derbyshire, much more than we had had in central Nottingham. Again, this would not have mattered very much if I drove a 4X4 monstrosity; or even a semi-sensible, solid, front wheel drive car. But I don’t. I drive a beautiful, nippy, delightful rear wheel drive Mercedes sports car. Prince Rupert, for such is his name, is the love of my life, but even I have to admit that he is not totally practical for snowy winter mornings in the Dales. And I never did get around to buying those winter wheels.

I dressed in layers, gritted my teeth, and set off. How bad could it get, I asked myself. I would be on main roads and the gritters would have been out. The answer was, it could get very bad. I had left early, the roads felt like sheet ice. The further I went, the more it felt as if I was driving in a skidpan. Frankly, I was terrified. Half way there, after a particularly nasty skid that left me almost facing back towards home, I threw away any pretence of courage, completed the turn, and headed back to Nottingham.

A brief trip to the flat produced the information that there was, indeed, a direct train from Nottingham to Matlock Bath. I heaved a sigh of relief, left a message to say that I was late but that I was on my way, and headed for the railway station. Sadly, I had missed the 09.18, and these trains only run once an hour, so I waited for the 10.18 before settling down in the carriage to do some work through the hour’s journey. There was, disappointingly, no Wi-Fi on the train, (I thought it was now standard practice on most lines), but there was still plenty to do and, to be honest, the beautiful snow-covered landscape was a distraction.

At last we pulled in to Matlock Bath and I alighted gingerly. The platform had far more ice on it than I liked and I was nervous. There did not seem to be anybody about. I was surprised, until a fellow-passenger explained that this was an unmanned station.  I have to confess that I had not considered this possibility. I had assumed that I would step off the train into a heated station and that there would be a row of taxis outside. Instead, there was ice and snow, nobody about, and no taxis.

Surely, I thought, there would be a taxi telephone number? At last I found it – or, rather, them. There was a list of six taxi firms. Getting colder by the second, I dialled the first one. Oh yes, he said, he was a taxi firm, but he didn’t have any taxis available and would not have for about an hour. I thanked him and moved on to the second number. That one quoted me forty-five minutes. The third number didn’t even answer; neither did the fourth. The fifth firm quoted me half an hour at least but said, rather unhelpfully, that she couldn’t guarantee it. By this time I had been standing outside for near on twenty minutes. I was freezing cold and close to tears. Why did nobody in Matlock Bath want my money? There was one number left. I decided, as I dialled it, that if they said no I wasn’t going to try any more. The return train to Nottingham was due in five minutes, and I was getting on it. Naturally, she said yes; she would have a taxi to me immediately.

Sadly, I watched the Nottingham train pull in and depart without me. Longingly, I thought of my warm house, my beloved computer, the fire. But, no, the taxi would come and I would attend what was left of the day’s meeting. I would do my duty. Twenty minutes later, still standing in the freezing cold outside the station, I regretted that decision. None of my thoughts at this time is printable.

Eventually the taxi came and took me to Masson Mills, a fascinating Victorian Mill that still works. I joined the meeting, sitting quietly at the back to hear the last of the morning’s presentations. It was only when we broke for lunch, some twenty minutes later, that I realised what a lucky escape I had had. My colleagues told me that the ramp down to the car park (narrow and winding, as I well remembered) had not been gritted, because it was supposed to be heated. Unfortunately, it appeared that the heating wasn’t working. Poor Prince Rupert would have been well and truly stuck, and so would I, and this blog would have been written not on the return train journey (as is the case) but from the inside of a frozen car.

When the meeting finished, at 4p.m., I rang the same taxi firm that had taken pity on me in the morning to request a return journey. I suppose I should not have been surprised when they said that it would be about an hour. Thankfully, one of my colleagues took pity on me and drove me to the station, otherwise I might have missed this train and still be sitting on a cold platform waiting for the next one. Which would have been a long wait, since I discovered that there is only one train that goes backwards and forwards between Nottingham and Matlock all day. So I would have had to wait for the train to get back to Nottingham, turn around, go all the day back to Matlock, and then return to pick me up at Matlock Bath.

Matlock Bath is very pretty, but I would recommend visiting on a day when the ice and snow are not lying on the ground. And if you are going to require a taxi, I suggest you organise it before you leave home.