He couldn't ignore the sound of a fist rapping on a door. Especially the door of a police box which wasn't really supposed to draw that kind of attention. Not to mention the fact that the rapping, earnest rather than urgent, was getting a bit annoying.
The man hopped back as the door creaked, and peered through round lenses at the face now poking around the opening.
"Hello, eve- oh, er, morning." Off-course again. Behind the man, the Doctor saw a railway platform and some unimaginative fields. This clearly wasn't the Barcelona Crufts Revival. Then again, the Doctor had been sort of hoping that the TARDIS would get a bit lost. Barcelona Crufts is no fun on your own.
"Good morning," replied the man. "I'm hoping this is an information kiosk of some kind."
"...Of a sort, yes." The Doctor smiled away the ambiguity. The man was non-threatening, and considerably less annoying now he'd stopped being noisy on the door. "How can I help you?"
"I was hoping to check when the next train to Flydale West would be along. The ticket office is empty at the moment, I can't see any timetables up, and even that clock isn't working." The clock over the platform had indeed stopped, and until such time as it was fixed, was claiming that it was about ten to eleven.
"Well, it's right twice a day. Which isn't that bad. Some people would love to know they'll be right twice a day. Sorry. Carry on, Sir."
"Anyway, I saw your box, wondered if there were any staff inside, and thought...
...I would knock for times."