Why estate agents have a bad name

Commuting 3-4 days a week from Carlisle to Edinburgh is getting very tiring. I've decided to look for a little flat to rent in Edinburgh.

Arranged to view one this evening. I duly arrived. The agent duly arrived, and as we were climbing the stairs he mentioned that the existing tenant was still in (I knew that), and that he'd been advised we were coming - by e-mail.

Mmm, I thought, not a good idea, I hope the tenant received the e-mail.

Of course he hadn't. And of course he was cross that we'd effectively turned up unannounced. And of course he said it wasn't convenient for us to view the flat.

I wish I knew that poor guy's name so I could apologise to him. He looked like he'd just woken up when he answered the door. Perhaps he was a shift-worker catching up on his sleep.

But I'm seriously unimpressed with that agency. Here's why.

• They should have phoned the tenant to ask if it was convenient for us to visit - not e-mailed him. E-mails can get lost in cyberspace and can take longer than 24 hours to pick up and read.
• Without a reply to their e-mail, they should then have alerted me that they hadn't been able to reach the existing tenant, and asked me if I wanted to go round on the off-chance or leave it.

So I won't be going through that agency. Nice though the flat's location was, if that's an example of the service they provide to their tenants, I don't want to be one.

Virgin put their mistake right - bravo

During the Big January Freeze, Virgin Trains did jolly well in providing any train service at all here in the frozen North.

The trains did suffer delays, but cancellations were remarkably few in number.

The only problem happened on one day when the passenger door at the front of the train froze shut and wouldn't open to let me off at Haymarket.

By the time I'd made my way down the train to the next door, the driver had locked the doors - leaving me no choice but to stay on the train until Edinburgh Waverley.

Thankfully that's only 5 minutes away. But because my train was already a good hour late, rather than do the longer walk to the office from Waverley, I got a taxi.

I wrote to Virgin Trains explaining what had happened and asking them to reimburse my £8 taxi fare.

Then yesterday, a very polite and apologetic letter arrived in the post, with an £8 cheque attached.

Bravo Virgin, that's what I call good service.

A mistake was made but it was put right and due recompense made. You can't ask more than that.

Of grey suede boots, pigeons, and a very helpful hardware shop

Walking across Edinburgh to the office this morning, I noticed a pigeon had relieved itself on my boot.

That's a new-last-month pale grey suede boot which I'm rather proud of.

Cursing all pigeons, I headed for Home Hardware on Morningside Road, which is the sort of little hardware and household shop that sells everything you can think of and more besides.

This shop not only proved to stock suede brushes, but the gentleman behind the counter proceeded to kneel down and brush the pigeon dropping off my boot, leaving it pristine.

And he was surprised when I said I still wanted to buy the brush.

I figured it was the least I could do after receiving such excellent and thoughtful service.

And I'll also be forearmed if any more pigeons decide to aim for my boots.

There's no seat in that space!

This blog is turning into "M's traveller's tales".

Here's Virgin Trains' latest caper.

Yesterday morning, at Carlisle station ready to travel to Edinburgh, I decided to book a seat in the quiet coach on the 16.57 coming home that evening.

Lady behind the counter: "The 18.16 doesn't have a quiet coach".
M: "No, I said the 16.57 not the 18.16".

She eventually (after several questions to her colleague, checking whether the train was a Virgin Pendolino or Virgin SuperVoyager, and getting stopped by the computer system several times) presented me with a reservation for seat 1 in coach A, the quiet coach.

As the train drew into Haymarket that evening, I was glad I'd reserved a seat. The train was packed.

BUT... when I got into coach A, I discovered that seat 1 was... the wheelchair space.

And unlike on buses, the wheelchair space on trains (well, Virgin Trains anyway) has no seat in it.

Given I'd booked the seat in person and the lady behind the counter could see I wasn't in a wheelchair, I'm bewildered as to why she gave me that space...

Thankfully there were one or two other seats free in the quiet coach so I sat in one of those. Otherwise I'd have been standing for an hour back to Carlisle.

Oh well, it makes a good story for the blog...

Quiet? Who said quiet?

As my Twitter friend Katie Macdonald (a virtual assistant whose niche market is foodie businesses - great idea) says, I don't seem to have much luck with the "quiet" coach on Virgin Trains.

My train journey up to Edinburgh for my job with FreeAgent is part of my working day. So I always make a beeline for the quiet coach, on the basis that I should be able to work more easily there.

But "quiet" is often a misnomer.

In the last few months, I've encountered, in the quiet coach:

• Crying babies
• Shouting children
• People talking loudly to each other
• People talking loudly on mobile phones
• People listening to their iPods so loudly I can hear it at the other end of the coach
  

Now a crying baby I can sympathise with, because if the baby is asleep then the best place for him/her is the quiet coach, so that there's more chance that he/she will stay asleep. And as an auntie of five, I know that babies don't sleep on demand. Also, on a busy train it's just not practical for mum or dad to take the baby out of the quiet coach until he/she goes to sleep.

I guess the same goes for a bored and fractious child. Unless there's a family carriage (which Virgin Trains don't seem to have), there's not really anywhere to take that child to let off steam.

But I'm sorry, if you want to have a loud conversation with your friends (whether they're on the train or at the other end of a mobile), don't sit in the quiet coach. And ditto if you want to play your iPod.

The signs on the trains say "please refrain from using mobile phones and creating unnecessary noise". But in 3 months of using the quiet coach, I've only once heard one of the train staff ask a passenger to turn his/her mobile off or put it on silent.

That's what I do. My mobiles stay firmly on silent when I'm in the quiet coach and if anyone rings, I scuttle out into the corridor.

Perhaps Virgin should put up more detailed guidelines for use of the quiet coach, or police it more zealously. Because noisy people just ruin the quiet coach for those of us who want - well, a bit of quiet.

Sorry folks, rant over :-)

Virgin took their time... but WiFi works a treat!

A month after I asked for clarification on the date when WiFi was going to be installed on all the SuperVoyager trains, I had a very apologetic e-mail from Virgin saying "sorry for the delay in responding, but we have now got WiFi on all our trains".

This had to be tried.

So last Monday I caught a SuperVoyager home instead of my usual First TransPennine train and checked out the WiFi (not expecting much because I'd heard on the grapevine that it didn't work well on the Scottish route).

It worked a treat.

Which is great because it means, if I catch a SuperVoyager, I can check and clear e-mails on the way in and on the way home, making the best possible use of the commute.

And, as an added bonus, the SuperVoyagers are a) quieter b) more comfortable and c) bigger therefore you're less likely to find yourself packed in like a sardine, than the First TransPennine trains.

Just a pity you have to pay for WiFi in Standard Class, but hey, you can't have it all :-)

Virgin says "computer says no"

Yesterday morning. M at the station ready to travel to Edinburgh once she had collected her ticket from the pre-pay machine, having bought it with a credit card on the fab Raileasy website.

Looks in rucksack... coat pocket... no wallet and therefore no credit card, debit card, cash or anything.

Panics.

Remembers she left wallet in pocket of other coat the previous night.

Stops panicking and hopes that nice lady behind the counter can issue her ticket given she (M) knows the booking reference number (written in her diary) and all the details of the journey.

Nice lady says no because computer says it must have the credit card that made the booking.

Nice lady also says "please let me finish" when M was not aware she had interrupted in the middle of a sentence. (Middle of a paragraph maybe but humans do not always have to deliver a pre-prepared speech.)

M cannot travel to Edinburgh.

M has to phone husband and get him to come to the station with cash to buy another ticket.

Husband arrives just as train leaves - without M on it.

M is late for work and cross with Virgin Trains. "Computer says no" is a feeble excuse for bad customer service.