Confessions of a Train Driver

No this isn’t a bad 70s soft-porn article – this is serious stuff. Meet Cathy Fuller, train driver. As you’ve probably noticed Cathy is a woman – so that makes her a female train driver (my powers of deduction are stunning!).

Cathy loves her job but she is in a minority at work – there aren’t many female train drivers, though admittedly there are more now than when Cathy first took to the rails back in 1999. I wondered about that but then after talking with her for a while I can fully understand why we see so few women at the controls of a train.

I don’t know about you but I’m the first to admit that I’d never really considered the train driver’s ‘lot in life’. If pushed however, I would have posited the theory that hidden up there in the off-limits train control room was a ‘for-drivers-and-conductors-only-and-not-for-any-member-of-the-public’ loo.

My theory misses the mark … quite considerably. And my theory isn’t the only thing missing its mark, for imagine the scene. You’re driving a train – it’s an old one, but it’s chugging along. Not so the train in front of you, which unfortunately breaks down – you happen to be on rails so the opportunity to ‘pass’ it on the hard shoulder is, quite frankly, non-existent. You’re stuck there for quite some time. As with all good waiting scenarios, the need for the loo gradually works its way through your psyche: firstly darting in and out occasionally just so you know it’s coming; then gradually working its way to the forefront of your mind until you can’t think of anything else other than that one single need for relief.

Unfortunately, the thing with old trains apparently is that they don’t have any loos on them. No toilet facilities whatsoever. Zilch. Zero. Zip.

So, as a woman you have a wee problem … literally. And if Cathy’s stories are anything to go by, you have it frequently too because a broken-down train in front of you isn’t the only time the problem arises. Take an average day in the life of a train driver:

Every day Cathy turns up for work and is given her work schedule. This tells her what route she’s driving, what stations she’ll pass through, what time she ought to be arriving and leaving each station and the wait time at her destination before she starts the return journey. She has a schedule for every journey she will make during her shift.

Because she is on such a tight timetable the opportunities for a loo-break tend to be few and far between (and no, they’re not included in her schedule!). How many times have you seen the train driver hop off the train at a station to nip to the loo? Chances are it’s never – there’s not enough time. If she’s lucky Cathy’s destination will have a loo on the platform and she’ll be able to avail herself while she and the guard change train ends before she drives the train back on the return journey. If the train’s late though, the turnaround time is reduced and there’ll be no time for that comfort break.

You can just imagine the recruitment campaigns of the future where women are concerned – ‘Hey girl … bladder of steel? Your train service needs you!!’ But Cathy was some way through her initial year’s training before she identified the potential predicament she might face at work. As a new recruit she spent much of her time back in the classroom learning rules, regulations and tractions amongst other things before sitting exams that, when passed, allowed her to notch up 200+ hours of driving with an instructor. By the time she spotted the lack of facilities it was too late – she was hooked by the job.

Being an inventive sort though Cathy’s confessions in times of need – like being stuck behind the aforementioned broken-down train – include bin liners and coffee cups, all with varying degrees of success. Bin liners of course, whilst offering a fairly manageable target area – even for a woman – do tend to have holes in them, something you’re likely to forget in your desperation. Cathy isn’t likely to forget that again in a hurry!

Coffee cups, while being fairly watertight present a far more challenging target area for us women, but apparently they do offer a sliver of a possibility so long as you don’t snag them in your knickers as you attempt to put them down!!

“What you need,” said a discerning Sapphic Central reader, as Cathy recounted her woes (to much mirth and merriment), “… is a Shewee,” she said pointing out a previous edition of Sapphic Central. Sure enough, the Shewee is now Cathy’s latest must-have accessory. I won’t say that she never leaves home without it – but she certainly never goes to work without it!

Bottles are no longer an impossible dream in times of desperation, but a relieving reality, albeit an awkward one! Cathy – after a couple of initial teething problems borne of inexperience – is finally on a par with her male counterparts.  The relief is palpable.

You can just imagine the recruitment campaigns of the future where women are concerned – ‘Hey girl … bladder of steel? Your train service needs you!!’