KEY POINTS:
On Monday when a Westie colleague rolled his eyes at my plan to catch a train to Henderson, I should have taken the hint. He's always regaling me with tales of woe from the Western Line. But his trip that morning had been untoward. "If you must do it, you've chosen a good day."
I was off for a guided tour of Waitakere Mayor Bob Harvey's pride and joy, the new city headquarters, complete with integrated transport centre. A quick walk down to the Britomart station from my office and, hey presto, 42 minutes later, up the escalator and into Bob's empire. How could I go any other way?
At 11.29am, we powered out of the station on time, past the Vector Arena and along the back of the Domain to Newmarket. Well almost to Newmarket. Just shy of the signal box we came to a halt. The guard announces a 10-15 minute delay due to signal problems. Forty minutes later and about the time I'm supposed to be beginning the mayoral tour, we're told we'll be there for another 15 minutes. Three trains are stuck up ahead and the signals and points have to be hand-cranked back and forth for each.
By the look of the huge leather gloves the guard has now donned, he's volunteered. I should have brought a book. Watching yellowing trackside fennel heads swaying in the breeze is only picturesque in small doses.
12.16pm. With a victorious little toot, we amble into Newmarket, passing assorted officials staring at the signal box. 12.20pm: Leave Newmarket for the west. 12.21pm: Stop for more hand-winding. 12.30: Finally under way. Just after 1pm we arrive at Henderson. Mayor on platform to greet me.
Two hours later, we're back. At the top of the escalator, Mayor Bob wishes me Godspeed for my return journey. In the background, Vivaldi muzak echoes along the overbridge. Classical music frightens off the vandals, he explains. It does out West anyway. The overbridge is open 24 hours and there's nary a graffiti scrawl in sight.
On the sun-drenched platform I join 50 or so wilting travellers. 3.20pm. Loudspeaker announces trains running up to an hour late throughout Auckland. The guy next to me says he and his wife have been waiting more than an hour. They drift off. Other suckers arrive. Two uniformed train officials appear and I ask if a train into town is likely. I get the old "maybe 10-15 minute" answer. Then they spot a taxi pulling up beyond the tracks in Railside Avenue. "That's ours," says one to the other with a triumphant grin. They leap off the platform, across the rails and away. Smart move.
I call a cab myself. Why do I always fall for "the five minutes away" line? It was another 30 minutes. By then it's 4pm and, on the platform, the wait goes on.
The official explanation was awaiting me back at work. Or was it a Monty Python sketch?
The chaos began at 9.36am when the electronic communications system started playing up at Avondale. At 11am, the points at the Newmarket junction of the western and southern lines failed and had to be hand-cranked. A repair man was ordered. Half an hour later, the duty signaller let a train through from the south before the points had been totally hand-cranked into position. That further knackered the points, making further hand-cranking impossible.
The naughty signaller was immediately "relieved" of his duties, causing more delays while they found a substitute. At 12.20pm, the repair man finally showed up, 80 minutes after the signals failed. To cap it all, at 1.35pm, power went out on the Western Line, bringing down level-crossing barrier arms and slowing trains even more.
Safely back in the office, I was keen to share my adventures with my Western Line old-hand, but he'd gone home early. On a coffee run, he'd fallen over the Queen St pavement excavations and was suffering from a split head and damaged ankle.
That evening on TV One, Auckland mayoral hopeful and part-time travel show host John Banks ended his tour of Madagascar with the declaration it was his last jaunt to a Third World country. He didn't like the pot holes and the slow trains. And he came back to Auckland!
