I was delighted in a perverse way by an article in the Western Mail that seems horrified at the thought of reducing air travel.
Apparently Professor Stuart Cole of the Wales Transport Research Centre at the University of Glamorgan warned of dire occurences if Network Rail introduced high speed ‘“bullet-style” trains between London and Cardiff.’
According to the article, Prof Cole ’said the trains could spell disaster for internal flights, similar to the effect of the Eurostar which has hit flights between London and Paris…
‘France is the only country to have a comprehensive network of high speed trains. They have basically robbed the airlines of all potential traffic. Air Inter closed down and merged into Air France because they just didn’t have enough business.’
Aww. How sad. What’s fascinating about the article is how negative the feel is. Despite describing something that’s potentially excellent, it’s full of doom and gloom. At least three times Prof Cole is ‘warning’ about something or other. And those poor internal airlines…
The only reason for all this warning, I suspect, is something that the insightful journalists of the Western Mail entirely missed. An in-depth study of just what these ‘“bullet-style” trains’ will be like.
If they’re “bullet-style” I guess they’re no more than a couple of inches long, travel through the air and have a tendency to kill people. This does not sound an ideal way to travel.
Oh, how I dream of bullet trains. The track and rolling stock of National
SlowcoachExpress East Anglia haven’t been updated since the days of King Raedwald.Any more tickets from Sutton Hoo?
I’m on my way to Norwich right now, henry. We seem to be moving pretty fast.
It’ll slow right down to 20mph at Kelvedon. Not much — but just enough so that you’ll miss your connection to Sheringham by a minute, meaning you’ll have to hang around in Norwich for a whole hour to get the next one. Angry? I nearly wet myself.
People take planes within the UK? Really?
Doesn’t waiting for a flight and all the corresponding hassle take longer than training it anyway?
@Eva – incredibly, the plane is often cheaper and, if you’re going to Belfast, less wet.
Yes, Eva, you should look at the train ticket prices. £130 for a single from London to York, let alone to the real" north. And that’s the “standard” fare.
"Bronwen’s blog notwithstanding, that’s what I had to pay the other day for a relatively short-notice ticket.
I do prefer to travel by train than plane, though, it is more comfortable, and there is much less hanging about, as you say. But cheaper? — Not always, or even often.
Eva, when I wrote “you should look at the train ticket prices” I did not mean that in the sense of “go and look at them” I meant it in the sense of “wow, yes, they are incredibly high”. Did not mean to “read bossy”, not even a tiny bit like Hermione.
Our Hermione is very bossy.
I flew from Glasgow to London a couple of times because I just couldn’t afford the train fare. I did feel quite ridiculous though.
I realise I lied, and the train is not always more comfortable, especially if the ticket system does not permit you to book a seat and you end up with 3000 other parents/teenagers all going to a university’s open day in a three-carriage train.
But even if you do have a ticket, these days there are all the mobile phones, personal and not-so-personal stereos, etc. The other weekend I returned from Bristol with a carriage containing several big muscly guys with radios blaring out music (not a headphone in sight); and another, much larger, collection of muscly males who were a sports’ team of some variety. They all had huge bags with them, and were extremly noisy, playing practical jokes on each other, etc. Mobile phones went off at regular intervals, involving loud conversations.
I was not able to read my book. Enough said.
A train recommendation: I make an annual pilgrimage to Inverness to visit a friend and take the train back and forth. It is an 8 hour journey each way (which is only marginally longer than the aeroplane all things taken into account). It has a very civilised dining car, where you can hang out in style and have a really nice lunch.
My experience is that I have an excellent trip on the way up: at least one very interesting conversation1 and am able to make a dent in my book. The trip back tends to be a bit “louder” and the neighbours tend to be slightly less interesting, but all in all I would recommend it.
I am with Maxine, though, in the sentiment that coming home by train on a Friday/Saturday/Sunday evening from almost anywhere is just hideous.
1 This year my dining companion and I covered: Russian literature, food shortages, global warming, Robert Mugabe, fishing, and the unnecessarily high pressure being placed on the modern parent. The lady who was sat next to me in the “normal seat” had made 1000 pounds by buying a first edition Lord of the Rings (in bad condition) from e-Bay (for something like 20 p) and then re-selling it somewhere-else-that-I-have-forgotten. Her daughter is military meteorologist (fancy that!).
On the way back I got trapped in an argument about the sugar content in cereal bars, but luckily I escaped in a change-at-Edinburgh and made decent progress with “If this is a man”.
lady who was sat next to me in the “normal seat” had made 1000 pounds by buying a first edition Lord of the Rings (in bad condition) from e-Bay (for something like 20 p) and then re-selling it
Bastard.
Bastard bastard bastard.
Glasgow to Belfast by plane takes ~22 minutes. Shortest flight I’ve done evah.
An on-train conversation changed my life once.
Less dramatically, I once had a great on-train conversation with a 94 year-old woman who was travelling down from Aberdeen to stay with her daughter in Darlington. She kept telling us “I’m 94, you know”, and regaled the assembled strangers at our table with tales of her life for at least an hour.
When we got to Darlington, a couple of us jumped up to help her with her bags, but she absolutely refused any assistance. “I’m 94, I’m not an invalid”, said she. I asked her if she was being met, and she said “oh yes, my daughter’s coming to meet me”.
“How old’s your daughter?”
“She’s 75, dear”.
She waved us goodbye as she and her daughter shuffled off together on their walking frames. Everyone at the table had a massive smile on their face for the rest of the trip.
I love the train. It’s the second best way to travel, with the best way being by boat. Just be careful who you talk to, you might end up moving to a different continent…