SBB

Swiss people adore their train system. It reflects themselves in many and very flattering ways. It is fast, accurate, precise, up to date, clean and busy. And I have to admit, I am one of them as well. Maybe it is like with those men that have a huge landscape with toy trains up in their attic. They just stand there, marvel at its intricacy and from time to time glue another tree onto a styrofoam hill. I look at the map of Switzerland, criss-crossed by all its train tracks and just enjoy the thought of little trains moving back and forth across it.

Although, in reality, we also have to deal with its harsher sides... But let me start with talking about commuting. Every morning I wait on track 1 for the 7:08 train to Zürich. And often, there is a little downer: the train is late. Not that I need to be on time, nobody is checking whether I come into the lab at all, but that's just not the way it is supposed to be. Dammit! On the other hand, late trains are a sore spot for many, including the SBB itself. I guess a good indicator for that are the display panels that announce the next train to come. The old ones, which have this flipping mechanism for time, type of train, destination, etc., like those retro alarm clocks, they actually have a "4", to tell you that a train is four minutes late. Where else do you find that? Panic beyond three minutes. Not too bad. When the train finally rolls in, there is this slightly aggressive movement going through the crowd: get to the doors. But you are not supposed to run, you just have to be at the right spot when the train finally stops. There are a couple of tricks. First, there is a five meter strech on which you can be pretty sure that the first door of the third coach will be. Second, face the incoming train and make your correction walking backwards. This allows you to force people out of the way without looking at them. Boarding a first class coach and walking through into second class (which gives you, ideally, a two-meter headstart to those waiting outside because you enter the coach from another coach, not from the outside) is considered bad manner though. Don't ask me why. But I frown upon them. Cheap bastards. Then, pick the first seat that is available. The train is gonna be full anyway, so choosing a seat in an empty compartment is ridiculous. Once the train is on its way, read your newpaper. Don't talk. There is nothing worse than stupid conversation (note: all conversation is stupid at 7:08 in the morning). I remember the day when those two hair dressers (sorry about that, they might also have been in retail or the like) started to talk about their adventures in high school. At the time when girl A was bitching about biology classes where they looked at those freaky single-cell and double-cell creatures ("Wäisch no wommer im Bio die gruusige Ei- und Zwöizäller händ müesse aaluege?") I was ready to stuff their mouths with the business section of my newspaper.

Anyway. I did not. They are still among us.

Last Thursday however, the worst case scenario happened. Complete meltdown. In Dietikon, which is both the ugliest town in Switzerland and at the artery of the Swiss rail system, a train ripped down the power cable and placed it neatly across all six tracks that constitute this artery.It did so at 4 pm. Just when the rush hour started. Zürich main station was shear madness. Basically, wherever you wanna go from Zürich, its via Dietikon. Except for places like St. Gallen, which do not count. In my view.

"The next extra train leaves Zürich from track 16 at 17:15". Luckily, 16 was close. I even got a seat. What followed was an enjoyable train ride on rat runs through Zürichs countryside. Everybody was chatty (its allowed in the evening), commented on villages with silly names and reassured how great the Swiss train system is. How fast they brought order back into chaos and
that in any other country... It all changed when this elderly lady needed to go to the toilet. Which was locked. Like all toilets on the train. "How dare they?" "Like prisoners!" "Incredible?" The mob was furious. And the lady pressed her legs together. When I left the train in Baden I passed by the train conducter and told him to help the elderly lady in compartment 1 in coach number three. He promised to do so.