I had the good fortune to live in Vienna for some time, then Prague after that. Someone said to me at the time that this experience would make me a more tolerant person, (did they think I needed to be, I wonder?). And perhaps it has in some ways, however in others I notice tiny little differences.
Running for a bus, there is one difference. I drove past someone last night who was running for the bus, they did not get there in time and the bus pulled away, only to stop 30 meters further on at the traffic lights. So the person ran up to the bus and was asking to be let into the bus. She had no joy, and the bus drove away from the lights without her. She stood on the pavement, in the rain, shaking her head, looking up and down the road as if trying to decide whether to walk or wait for the next bus. I felt sorry for her, waiting for a bus in Dublin is not something I have had to do for a long time, and doing it standing in the rain is crap.
Dublin Bus have been running adverts recently telling us how good they are. Just imagine a company you know telling you over and over again that they are great, that they care for their customers, that they are providing a good service; when really the truth, and it is known by all, the truth is they are the complete opposite of what they tell you.
These companies waste money lying. It is increadble to think that someone in that orginisation thought this was a good idea.
I stood on the platform waiting for the train one day in Vienna. It was winter and cold, like all Viennese though I had learned to dress for the weather. The sign said it would be nine minutes till the next train arrived. Nine minutes between the trains. There was complaints all around me at how the service was deteriorating so badly, they all believed that there should be no more than five minutes between trains. I stood amused listening to it all, a smile played across my lips, I was ready to burst out laughing. Nine minutes, only nine minutes! Having growing up in Glasgow where the buses kind of ran on time, but now after having lived in Ireland for ten years on and off, nine minutes seemed like a luxury, and the thing was – the train WOULD turn up in nine minutes.
Anna sat in front of the computer one night in Prague. I asked her what she was doing. She was planning her journey for the next morning across the city. Seriously, I asked? She looked at me as if I was not all there. I laugh again. She was getting the metro, the tram, and then a bus; and she was looking to see where they all tied together and how long it would take for her to get where she was going. Incredible. It worked.
We live now in Ireland, a country that thinks very well of itself, at present. But, the Czech Republic, a country that was kidnapped by communism for 40 years and only just got independence in 1989 can run a bus service. (And a train service, a metro, and a tram service that all tie together)
I learned in Vienna and in Prague that I did not have to run for a bus or a tram, there would be another one along in a few minutes – when the timetable said it would. I drove away from the lights, the woman stood wet in the rain probably wondering if it was best to start walking or be prepared for the long unknown wait for the next bus.
There is good and bad everywhere – but please don’t waste money telling me what you are, when you’re not.