Twenty Miles Away
I got up at quarter past six today, which is too early for me. But I was going to Huddersfield Royal Infirmary to work and I knew it would be a tricky journey, so I set off really early.
It's twenty miles or so and involved lots of dark and rain and a close encounter with Ainley Top Roundabout which, in spite of its rather atmospheric and evocative name, is one of the nastiest roundabouts in Yorkshire. Lots of lanes and always lots of traffic trying to cross them.
Anyway, I got to the hospital early, at half past eight. The session started at nine and actually I knew I wasn't needed until half past nine, so I had plenty of time.
I followed the directions to the car park for the Learning Centre where I was working. It had its own car park so I'd assumed I would be able to park there.
When I saw the car park, though, I realised it was not just full but packed - cars squeezed into every nook and cranny, in every direction.
So I went back to the main car park for patients. That was also completely full, with a couple of dozen cars driving round and round. Once I'd decided I would never manage to park there, it took me a good ten minutes to escape.
I asked a Car Park Man where I could park.
"Oh, you won't get anywhere at this time. It's all full by now," he said helpfully.
"Can I go in the staff cark park? I am actually working here today."
"Have you got a permit? No? You can't then."
"But there are spaces in there and everywhere else is full."
"Yes, but you can't park there."
"So could you suggest where I might park?"
"Well, you could try the side streets."
As I drove past the Learning Centre again in the direction of the side streets, I saw one of my colleagues and explained that I was trying to find somewhere to park. She had obviously been there before: she had travelled by bus and taxi.
Now it was nine o'clock but that was okay because I still had half an hour and they knew I was there. And they know I'm reliable, and that I would get there.
I tried every side street, all round the hospital. Every single one was "Permit Holders Only". I can see why the residents want this, or they'd never be able to park their cars.
I drove back into the hospital grounds and found Car Park Man Number 2. Twenty past nine.
"Can you suggest anywhere else that I could park?"
"You want to try the Mill. But it's a long walk, of course."
"Could you tell me where the Mill is?"
"You know, the Mill. The old Mill. Or failing that, the doctor's surgery car park."
I had to explain, carefully, that I am not from Huddersfield.
There are lots of old mills in Huddersfield but he gave me directions to this one. "You can park in the alley on the way in."
I couldn't. It was totally full. So was the doctor's surgery car park. And so was everywhere else. Cars on corners, cars on double yellow lines, cars parked on the sides of roads in the hospital grounds, making them almost too narrow to drive down.
By now it was half past nine. I went back to the hospital car park in case anyone had moved their car. They hadn't. There were still lots of cars driving round and round and getting stuck.
While stuck, I rang my colleagues - of course their phones were switched off because the session had started. So I left messages.
Then I found I was really upset - I hate being late and I hate letting people down and there wasn't a blasted thing I could do about it.
I gave up and drove home. When I got back I had been driving for slightly more than three hours and had done fifty miles. I was still shaking with powerless rage and frustration.
My colleagues were all lovely about it later. Until they got my messages, they thought that something terrible must have happened to me, because they knew I was there and yet I just didn't turn up for the session.
If I'm ever working there again, I'll try the train. "Aha! you should have done that in the first place!" I hear you cry.
But I live on the outskirts of Leeds, and the station's in the middle, and Huddersfield station's in the middle, and the hospital's on the outskirts of Huddersfield, and I really didn't want this morning job to take all day, so I went by car. Only twenty miles, after all.
It's twenty miles or so and involved lots of dark and rain and a close encounter with Ainley Top Roundabout which, in spite of its rather atmospheric and evocative name, is one of the nastiest roundabouts in Yorkshire. Lots of lanes and always lots of traffic trying to cross them.
Anyway, I got to the hospital early, at half past eight. The session started at nine and actually I knew I wasn't needed until half past nine, so I had plenty of time.
I followed the directions to the car park for the Learning Centre where I was working. It had its own car park so I'd assumed I would be able to park there.
When I saw the car park, though, I realised it was not just full but packed - cars squeezed into every nook and cranny, in every direction.
So I went back to the main car park for patients. That was also completely full, with a couple of dozen cars driving round and round. Once I'd decided I would never manage to park there, it took me a good ten minutes to escape.
I asked a Car Park Man where I could park.
"Oh, you won't get anywhere at this time. It's all full by now," he said helpfully.
"Can I go in the staff cark park? I am actually working here today."
"Have you got a permit? No? You can't then."
"But there are spaces in there and everywhere else is full."
"Yes, but you can't park there."
"So could you suggest where I might park?"
"Well, you could try the side streets."
As I drove past the Learning Centre again in the direction of the side streets, I saw one of my colleagues and explained that I was trying to find somewhere to park. She had obviously been there before: she had travelled by bus and taxi.
Now it was nine o'clock but that was okay because I still had half an hour and they knew I was there. And they know I'm reliable, and that I would get there.
I tried every side street, all round the hospital. Every single one was "Permit Holders Only". I can see why the residents want this, or they'd never be able to park their cars.
I drove back into the hospital grounds and found Car Park Man Number 2. Twenty past nine.
"Can you suggest anywhere else that I could park?"
"You want to try the Mill. But it's a long walk, of course."
"Could you tell me where the Mill is?"
"You know, the Mill. The old Mill. Or failing that, the doctor's surgery car park."
I had to explain, carefully, that I am not from Huddersfield.
There are lots of old mills in Huddersfield but he gave me directions to this one. "You can park in the alley on the way in."
I couldn't. It was totally full. So was the doctor's surgery car park. And so was everywhere else. Cars on corners, cars on double yellow lines, cars parked on the sides of roads in the hospital grounds, making them almost too narrow to drive down.
By now it was half past nine. I went back to the hospital car park in case anyone had moved their car. They hadn't. There were still lots of cars driving round and round and getting stuck.
While stuck, I rang my colleagues - of course their phones were switched off because the session had started. So I left messages.
Then I found I was really upset - I hate being late and I hate letting people down and there wasn't a blasted thing I could do about it.
I gave up and drove home. When I got back I had been driving for slightly more than three hours and had done fifty miles. I was still shaking with powerless rage and frustration.
My colleagues were all lovely about it later. Until they got my messages, they thought that something terrible must have happened to me, because they knew I was there and yet I just didn't turn up for the session.
If I'm ever working there again, I'll try the train. "Aha! you should have done that in the first place!" I hear you cry.
But I live on the outskirts of Leeds, and the station's in the middle, and Huddersfield station's in the middle, and the hospital's on the outskirts of Huddersfield, and I really didn't want this morning job to take all day, so I went by car. Only twenty miles, after all.
posted by Daphne at 6:42 pm
6 Comments:
I am a little surprised that, with all your experience of hospital (and university) parking in Leeds, you hadn't anticipated how horrendous it might be at Huddersfield Royal Infirmary.
Only leaving yourself an hour to find a parking space is patently not enough. Unless perhaps you get there way before 8 in the morning. It's a pity your colleagues hadn't warned you about this.
By the way, I wonder if the doctors surgery Car Park Man 2 was suggesting you could park in is the surgery I used to be registered with. If so, the chances of getting a parking space there are also pretty slim. Can't speak for 'the Mill' as goodness only knows where that is.
What a horrible day. I think I might have driven over car-park man's foot and parked in the employees' car park anyway - after all, you were an employee for the day. ;)
The shortest distance between your two points was obviously not a straight line! How frustrating.
Oh what a horrid thing to happen. I can just imagine the stress levels as I am SURE something very similar happened to me (but it was a job interview). I can recall it on the edge of my memory but was so unpleasant I've mostly forgotten it.
I think it's a scandal that all our hospitals seem to be like this.
Have a strong drink tonight and put it down to experience.
Hospital parking is just the same in Sheffield - a bloody nightmare! Imagine your child has been injured. You rush to hospital and before you can see him/her you have to drive round in circles to find a parking space that you probably have to pay through the nose for. This shouldn't be.
I hate it when that happens.
Our local hospital where my wife had both knees replaced last year (one at a time) had free, close-up parking for people who were having surgery that day. The lady at the toll booth was even given a list of that day's surgeries so that she could eliminate any poseurs (from the parking lot, I mean, not entirely). But by the time of my wife's second surgery, free parking had been done away with and we had to pay $5.00 like everyone else.
As we say in this country, "Bummer." Maybe that means something else where you are.
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