Thursday 7 November 2024

Somebody Take My Money

I was going to write a different blog post.  I had one lined up about Merseyrail that was very nice and complimentary and optimistic.  I would've written it yesterday, but an existential crisis about the state of humanity set in for some reason and I lost heart.  This was actually for the best, as now it means I have something to write that isn't furious and angry and will act as a palate cleanser to the one I'm about to share.

I went to buy a ticket today at my local station, Birkenhead Park.  I wanted to travel to West Kirby.  I arrived at the ticket window and there was a man behind the counter.  Also pinned up on the window was this:

I was confused.  Did that mean I couldn't buy a ticket?  He was stood there, looking out, after all.  I hovered, unsure what to do, and the man behind the counter looked me in the eye and said "buy it at the destination".

I travelled to West Kirby without a ticket.  When an inspector appeared on the train, his body cam pointing in my direction, I had to produce my phone with this photo and explain what happened.  I'm an anxious person, and I don't like travelling without a ticket, no matter what the reason.  He was fine with me, and wandered off down the train but still: nerve racking.

My point is that it's 2024 and this simply should not be happening.  When I went to Gobowen a couple of weeks ago I bought the ticket on my phone in a coffee shop before I arrived at the station.  I had it ready to be produced for anyone who wanted it.  It was quick and simple.

Staff need breaks, of course; they can't man the desk while they're having a pee.  But it's ridiculous that there is literally no alternative for me while they're away.  Why isn't there a ticket machine at every station as well as a ticket office?  I could have gone to that instead.  I would have gone to that instead.  Why can't I buy a ticket on the app?  What is stopping Merseyrail?  Why are we still acting as if this is somehow difficult?

You might have noticed that I do a fair amount of train travel.  The only place I have a piece of card is on my local network.  Everywhere else it's an e-ticket.  Every other train company in the UK allows this.  Merseyrail doesn't just reject it, it actively discourages it.  If you buy a ticket online you have to go to the station and get it printed out before you can use it.  For anywhere else in Britain I could've bought my train ticket before I'd even left the house, had it on my phone, and produced it for checking at any time.  

I have long given up on Merseyrail introducing ticket barriers across the network.  A day pass to beat the old Saveaways remains an impossible dream.  But how is it that they can't simply buy the software that everyone else uses for e-tickets?  Surely this is something that would raise revenue?

I was stood in Birkenhead Park station wanting to hand Merseyrail some money.  Absolutely dying to.  And they didn't want to take it.  They made it actively difficult for me to do so.

Because I am a good, responsible person, I did buy a ticket at my destination.  I didn't have to.  There was nothing to stop me.  West Kirby is barrierless, there was nobody checking tickets, I could've walked off and into the town and nobody would've stopped me.  Merseyrail would've lost four pounds seventy and it would've been entirely their fault.

Fare evasion is a blight upon the network and costs people like you and I actual cash as fares are raised to cover the costs of those who don't pay to travel.  But if you make it actively difficult for people to give you their money, you lose some of the high ground.

PS As Paul pointed out on Bluesky, the sign claims that today is the 6th November when it is actually the 7th.  It was also ten to eleven not twenty to.  This is also very annoying.

PPS This blog post covers more or less all the same points that I made in one in January 2022, with the exception that a Wirral Day Saver is now sixty pence more expensive.  Nothing has changed in the intervening thirty four months.  But I needed to get it off my chest.