8 Baffling Things About Manchester's Metrolink

SOME mothers might rate giving birth to their kids as memorable (and I’m a mother), but for me the arrival of a good public transport system is something to celebrate. 

I call myself the Angel of the Metrolink. 

And so when Metrolink's Airport Line opened on 3 November last year, it was the happiest day of my life. It had been a 30-minute walk from my house to the nearest Metrolink stop in Sale, now I live a 10-minute walk to Northern Moor. Excellent, I thought, my commute will be 20 minutes shorter. 

No chance.

I now find myself helping people from Wythenshawe buy tickets to Chorlton (I take great personal delight in this – Wythenshawe folk drinking in Chorlton – ha!). I've also helped three ex-cons just released from Strangeways get back to the sticks by letting them share my cab. 

"We're all in this together lads," I said as our service stopped at Old Trafford just before 11pm for no flipping reason and the jailbirds began to pick on me. "Any funny business, and none of us are getting home." 

"Are you scared?" one said, as they squared up to me on the platform in top-to-toe identical prison-regulation grey tracksuits. [What? Scared of being molested? Are you kidding me?] 

"Not really," I said. "I have a taxi number, and you don't." 

I'm used to dealing with sexist Oxbridge-educated CEOs who share characteristics with Manchester's misguided youth. 

Good public transport gets you from home, to work, to your friends, to the pub and back home again. But not Metrolink. Oh no, Metrolink has a mind of its own. It takes you a third of the way to your destination, at full price, before it tells you to get off, walk across the road and join the queue for a bus. When this happens, I want to throw things. 

Also: the Airport Line is supposed to take you to the airport, but sometimes it doesn't.

Metrolink

As well as rescuing criminals, I've also called a cab to collect stranded Irish folk stuck at Cornbrook, on their way to catch a Ryanair flight back to Dublin having enjoyed a Manchester United holiday. I sent them off to Trafford Bar where my local taxi firm was waiting for them. I call myself the Angel of the Metrolink. 

I travel a fair amount with my job, getting a regular fix of planes, trains and automobiles. I like to think that when it comes to public transport, I know my stuff. For example, I once caught a taxi from Tbilisi in Georgia over the Caucasus Mountains and down the Silk Road to Yerevan in Armenia, in heavy fog, and pouring rain. It took 12 hours, there's a risk of snipers near Azerbaijan, I don't recommend it. 

Do you know that in Taipei, Taiwan, little buses are painted in flowers and have lace curtains? You pay for the metro with plastic tokens (like Connect 4) and you can travel for hours for about 12 pence, not because everything is cheap, but because transport is a necessary public service. And you have to demonstrate good manners on the tram: no drinking, no eating, no sex. The other day, I got a rush hour seat on a tram – boom! – only for a man standing beside me to fart in my face. He actually farted in my face.

Windy in Taipei

In Hong Kong, they have these funny fairground type trams, as well as the MTR and boats, and a million buses. In Copenhagen you can buy extensions to your tickets – rather than an extra ticket to go one stop further, and they love cyclists. Do you know that in London an Oyster card gets you everywhere? Yes. Everywhere. 

Don't misunderstand me, I love our spanking new multi-million pound public transport system – but I also think Manchester's Metrolink is managed by an evil puppet master. They could do with focussing on "Customer Service". 

8 THINGS ABOUT THE METROLINK THAT BAFFLE ME:

When I moved back from London to Manchester, circa 2010, the trams had multiplied and were shooting at me from every direction. They'd also changed colour from green and white to grey and yellow – the same colour as the roads. Had Metrolink trams been camouflaged so that they could intentionally hit more people?

Metrolink ticket inspectors are very confused people; they have mistaken themselves for the Guardia Civil. They march onto the tram in their big boots, stomping up and the aisles booming TICKETS PLEASE, as panic-stricken commuters rummage to try and find the blasted things, before getting marched off and publicly disgraced by an inspector in a puffer jacket with a Pen And A Notepad. Has anyone ever told Metrolink staff that they are not the state police asking for ID cards? We, the consumers, are trying to get to work and we expect a friendly and helpful public service. This is Manchester, not Chechnya.

Why do 10 Metrolink tickets inspectors need one GMP Bobby to back them up at the Deansgate-Castlefield interchange at 8.30am on a Monday morning? How fast do they think pinstriped-suited barristers can run?

Big question: what's going on with the signage? There were signs on Market Street opposite Debenhams telling us when the next tram would arrive, and then they took them away? Now commuters spin in circles hoping to locate an oracle in the sky. Is it because Metrolink want to surprise us with three consecutive trams to Eccles; followed by one enormous tram to Oldham; and a tiny tram to Altrincham? And why, when there are so many lines, do signs list just two expected trams at a time?

Cornbrook – what is this cold windswept place?  I drink three glasses of wine in the NQ, walk 20-minutes to Castlefield, wait 15 minutes for a tram, only to be told at gale force Cornbrook it is 23-minute wait for the Airport tram, followed by a 20-minute trip to Northern Moor, and a 10-minute run home to get to the toilet in time. That's if I'm lucky. How about a Caffè Nero or Tesco Metro at Cornbrook? Maybe Metrolink could install a threading bar at Cornbrook? Eyebrows shaped while you wait? At some point in this journey, I could also do with sushi. Maybe Cornbrook is a secret recruitment ground for the next batch of bladder-hardy Metrolink inspectors? The station's certainly made it into Sleuth's New Manchester Dictionary.

Cornbrook station with a storm brewing

Is there any REAL reason why we can't go all across the city for £6? (or on a weekly ticket?)

When you called your new ticket Get Me There, did you note a touch of sarcasm in the suggestion – maybe?

I understand we are always going to have flowers growing on the tram tracks at Deansgate-Castlefield. The system is blossoming, wonderful. Next, Cornbrook.

The fact is Metrolink can be very good. I can't wait for it to expand all over the city. When the new cross-city line opens, that will be the second most exciting day of my life.

Maria Roberts is editor of International Arts Manager  Twitter @Maria_Roberts

Blossoming at Deansgate-Castlefield

Carpeting the tracks