Before leaving the station, the announcements on a train warning you of how many ways you will be fined, mocked or made to buy another full-price ticket get longer and longer, as the service gets worse and worse – and more and more expensive.
Ten minutes of every permutation of how you will be fleeced further is then followed by an apology that the train is cancelled due to a fault with the doors or delayed due to an unattended plimsoll being found in the buffet car.
There was stiff competition for worst train company last week.
Great Western Railway was its usual mix of delays and overcrowding, though at least this time I wasn’t also being dripped on by the loose tubing of the air-con which appeared to be offering a weekend upgrade to Legionnaires’ disease (Salisbury to Southampton – a two-carriage train, dangerously overcrowded).
The train from Newbury to Westbury used to be 10 carriages, but this created a problem of roominess and comfort, so it has been reduced to five. As I’m a daily user of train lines, the overcrowding came as no surprise, but the occasional rail user was up in arms. How could it be that the seat reservation system was not working and they had to stand in the vestibule?
Because this is Britain and this is what happens when people with the psychology of a wartime profiteering grocer are in charge. To cope with my annoyance in such situations, I try to be helpful and jolly. I help people on and off with their luggage, find them seats should such a thing exist, and be friendly to their dogs. It does not go unnoticed by the train manager, who offers me a coffee.