I love to people-watch, especially when I'm touring new places. It's usually as much fun as the destination itself. But not when you become involved in the action.
In school we practiced fire drills. An orderly and efficient transfer of a large number of people from one place to another place, yet with a sense of urgency.
The inter-city train approached the platform at Gothenburg Central. The platform was full. The train was on-time. Dad and I, having had a quick bite of what passes for "breakfast" at the B&B, were anxious to climb aboard, get settled, and maybe get a little more food in our bellies from the cafe car.
The train slowed, then stopped. The doors opened. So did the floodgates.
Out of nowhere, a large group of elderly tourists swarmed the door to our assigned train carriage. They literally shouldered their way to the front of the queue led by a shrill-voiced diminutive older woman who was shouting and pleading with her group. The language was not one I understand, but I imagined that she was a modern day cowpoke, a disastrously inept one, like Barney Fife on a horse. About 20 of them, all wearing hats, cameras slung around their necks, and dragging huge luggage -- the great, big hard-sided aluminum jobs.
It became immediately obvious that few of the elderly tour group could lift their massive bags. If they couldn't roll them they couldn't move them, and there were three steep steps from the platform into the train car. I watched a couple of the men in the group step forward to try and lift the bags into the train, with poor results. Yelling and carrying-on ensued.
Finally another guy on the platform and I, as a pure matter of self-interest, stepped forward to haul the aircraft-grade aluminum behemoths into the train. Baggage in, the members of the gray-haired brigade mounted the train. And stopped. They wanted to rearrange their luggage in the luggage racks at the end of the car. Despite earlier experience, they still couldn't lift the things. Being frustrated, I just grabbed their luggage and started heaving it into the racks willy-nilly and shooed them to their seats.
Most passengers finally found their seats. And the train started to move. Progress, albeit late. Our on-time train was now 7 minutes late pulling out of the station!
The fun didn't end there. Apparently some of the group were assigned seats in the adjoining car. Hilarity ensued as the tour leader marshaled a pair of the men to extract bags from the baggage storage and haul them through our car to the next. The leader and her assistant then marched up and down the car to instruct various people to exchange seats. And maybe to dance the Lambada in the aisle as they did so. It took about 20 minutes for that dance to subside.
I mentioned that my Dad and I were still hungry. We opted instead for a couple of beers -- thank God the cafe car agreed to sell them to us so early in the morning!
Tips to tour groups and those who encounter them:
- Only travel with a bag that you can comfortably lift and carry, unassisted, for short distances.
- Tour groups should alight trains last. Let the "regular" folk enter and sit first. Faster for all.
- Make darn sure you get off the train ahead of the tour group
Next stop - Stockholm, Sweden -- the Vasa Museum, our stay in a house boat hotel "in the heart of the city", a royal wedding and much more!!
