A Wet Weekend

Considering the amount of rain we had, however welcome, the dry intervals were quite well placed but the weather still cast doubt over pressing ahead with our visit to the Swanage Railway Diesel Gala tomorrow. For today we were content to circulate in Bournemouth. Greg ordered a Nikon lens which we shall collect tomorrow. Amazingly I got only one bus photograph; the place, with its variety, deserves a concerted effort especially in Gervis Place. For various reasons we ate pretty late, effectively combining lunch with dinner (that's dinner and tea for the otherwise perfect Dave). We sat in Hot Rocks through rain - the only reason we had ordered desserts [cough] - and returned to the hotel in a break which preceded a substantial thunderstorm.

I had been rather tense before reaching Bournemouth after long and fruitless conversations with the Highways Agency and Police after yet another lengthy road closure. The short version of the debate is that I think they faff about with no regard for the majority and they defend their right to go over every supposed 'crime scene' with a fine tooth comb which is in fact about the level of technology they use. You only need to look at the recent and now notorious M1 closure in north London to appreciate the sheer lethargy of the authorities and their considerable capacity for overkill.

At Bournemouth Airport, I was not much happier as I assessed their latest parking restrictions and charges. You would not believe that this is a commercial organisation faced with dwindling passenger numbers and fickle airlines. It has become commonplace for regional airports to charge pick-up and drop-off fees which is blatant exploitation of their users. Bournemouth has tried to be cleverer but is equally mean. With prodigious use of coning and the introduction of a manually operated barrier which, apparently, requires two staff - a cost issue in itself I would imagine - they prohibit free pick-up or drop-off and, by banning pedestrian access over a stretch of airport approach make it impossible anywhere in the reasonable vicinity of their much vaunted and over-hyped terminal. Instead all cars must enter the car park for a minimum charge of £2.50 which is, in fact, £4 if you use a credit card. I am presently composing a suitably reproaching e-mail to their marketing and managing directors. The departure terminal I might remind you (I have previously blogged) is, landside at least, simply the old terminal inside a largely cosmetic new exterior.

People undoubtedly think I moan a lot and I shall probably, through self-induced stress, bring my crusading life to a premature close - accompanied no doubt by rounds of grateful applause - but the fact is people do not complain enough. Too many others get away with too many things. Tolerance is a wonderful thing but in the face of ineptitude, lethargy, dishonesty or a number of other negative characteristics it is simply not appropriate. Be prepared to challenge authority, to make accountability real.