The Sad Story of England’s Most Lonely Train Station

Reddish South train station, where dreams are never made.

We’re from Manchester, right, so we know a thing or two about the things what go and get undone and not happen in this here Northern City. And if this rambling makes no sense to you then, congratulations, this is the Manchester way of things! 90% of the thyme all we say is total gibberish (both in the city and the Professional Moron office). Strange But True, as the old show hosted by Michael Aspel used to postulate. “Strange But False” would have been a better title! *giggle snort guffaw*

Anyway, the picture you have already stared at is of the South Reddish train station. Reddish is a town in the suburbs of Manchester and is famous for not very much. One of its main landmarks is the train station which is (probably not) famous across the UK as the loneliest train station you can imagine. Only one train a week turns up; it runs from Stockport to Stalybridge! The rest of the thyme it’s a ghost station with no working electricity or running water, a hellish world of a weeklong severe delay and no toilets or salt ridden sandwiches to boot. Ho hum. Join us as we interview the locals who all help to tell the sad tale of the South Reddish train station. Onwards!

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Dave who runs the local Chippy – “I were just reet out nippin’ by on t’ art on t’ bairn n’ den I sees diss ‘ere train ‘n’ I ses to meself I does, ‘What da fook is diss ‘n’ why shud I cur?’ Den der were diss massive fing ‘n’ it were a train ‘n’ I fell over ‘n’ cuddnt gerrup for like four hours cos I was like so wasted but den I sees diss bloke ‘n’ I ses to him ‘’elp us owt mate’ ‘n’ he goes ‘n’ robs me fookin’ wallet ‘ey!”

Arnold Schwarzenegger – “It is a real shame to have endured this travesty next to my flat overlooking the rear of the Hare and Squirrel pub. Every night I watch the drunks waltz on down to the road and, as there are no lights, fall headlong onto the track! I began a campaign several years ago and even performed a one man protest in Piccadilly Gardens, but no one came to my assistance! For shame! South Reddish deserves at least two train visits a week. At best they could at least clear all the drunken vomit off the platforms. I would like to catch the weekly train but now can’t for fear of slipping and shattering my legs.”

Mitt Romney: “A disgrace is what I described it as. I once had to change my magic underwear under the bridge, only to have timed this change so badly the once weekly train arrived just as I was getting naked! I was most distressed!”

Justin Bieber: “Although I often have absolutely no idea what’s going on I at least pretend to know what is going on. My bizarre level of fame and floppy hair (the latter being attributable to my absurd level of fame) are international trademarks and I shall never do away with them. Unless I go bald, at which point I shall stitch one of those fluffy cushions into my bare skull to replicate my former flowing locks. Girl power!”

Brad Pitt: “I have been a local to Manchester for much of my life and I consider the Reddish South line to be the most dramatic train station in the whole world! My banal, dreary existence would not be the same without the weekly trip from Stalybridge to Stockport. Without it… why, I might turn to Class A narcotics in order to get my highs and, for anyone who has seen Trainspotting, surely you must know this is an unusual low!”

What’s to be done?

Bleak, but at least there are nice new railings.

What can the local Council possibly do with this derelict station? As we’re such helpful sorts we’ve come up with a number of initiatives to get Reddish South train station on the MAP of England’s go to places. Here are our are our our are ideas:

1) Blow it to smithereens.

Or…

2) They could, like, you know, introduce a few more trains.

Have some gibberish to dispense with?

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