A service of light humour will be available in this post. It’s apt to be more reliable than the train…

I am feeling inspired. Inspired enough to kill some time on the journey back from London to Plymouth. Three and a half hours is nothing to sniff at and one needs distractions while travelling in standard class. Are you a betting reader? What are the odds my train arrives into Plymouth at the originally appointed time? It feels like a school logic problem. Slim to none is the real answer. And over the Tannoy comes:

“A service of light refreshments will be available on this train. However, due to gross incompetence, understaffing, chronic under investment, and a general desire to make more money, there will be no refreshment service on this train.”

Trains in the UK suck. That’s not opinion, but objective fact when compared to almost everywhere else in the world. I’ve been on trains on a few different continents, and none are incontinent as those of Great Britain. Northern Ireland is largely exempt from this, as it has a relatively functional and fairly priced rail service. There’s a reason for this. The rail line is operated by the government. That doesn’t guarantee function or service, but it’s a damn sight better than the pseudo-competitive, profiteering English approach. The prices in and out of London are completely insane at peak times. It was cheaper to fly to Bucharest than get the train to our capital city. As far as I’m aware (and according to some brief research), diesel doesn’t cost as much as jet fuel.

“A service of light refreshments is available on your train. Unfortunately your train has been cancelled, but we can reassure you that, had you been able to board, a service of light refreshments would have been at your fingertips.”

Don’t get me wrong. When the refreshment cart exists (though conveniently absent from my six to eight hour train journeys more often than not) the offerings on GWR are decent. Burt’s crisps and soft drinks at reasonable prices, which is often not the case when there’s a captive audience. In this case the captive audience is hurtling through the countryside at blisteringly moderate speeds. Shinkansen eat your heart out.

“A service of light refreshments is available on this train. Those who photosynthesize are well catered for.”

On a different note entirely, but one quite germane to public address on trains, our use of tannoy comes from the brand “Tannoy” which became synonymous with public address (PA) systems in the UK. I had never connected the two, and just assumed the brand reflected the existing noun describing a PA system. We use so many terms in day to day life without thinking about their etymology (but not their entomology, unlike the Public Ant system).

“A service of light refreshments is available on this train. However an angry toddler is currently preventing the transit of the cart, and the attendant has locked themselves in the bathroom for their own safety.”

We as a people travel encumbered, and slowly. The Japanese are quite the opposite. They tend to travel incredibly light and incredibly quick. This is directly evidenced by the bullet train (Shinkansen) which barely has enough space for a handful of suitcases. Some of the trains have space behind the very back seats, but there is competition between Westerners for the limited spots. We even struggled on buses when travelling around Hakone on our honeymoon. The lesson? Take less luggage. Or add in a pushchair and a third bag, then you’re golden. Do note that the taxi driver at Tomari port on Okinawa will not have enough space to fit all your baggage, but that will not deter him from fitting it in regardless. There. Will. Be. Space. It’s more of a state of mind than a physical problem to be solved.

“A service of light refreshments is available on this train…is what we would say if we offered a service of light refreshments.”

You could get off the train and run to the pasty stand, but what if you lose your seat? What if the train leaves earlier than expected and your baggage leaves without you? Instead you sit by the window, staring at the enticing kiosk with absurdly expensive pastry, wondering what could have been in another time. Another world. Perhaps, as a cultural concession, trains travelling to Devon and Cornwall should be legally obliged to serve traditional pasties. How else are you to cater to the miners and the mining adjacent?

“A service of light refreshments is available on this train, in your mind. The greatest nourishing comes from within. Reflect on this while your stomach grumbles.”

During my recent time in London I decided to take the tube at rush hour to shave twenty minutes off my morning commute. I say “take the tube” generously. One does not simply take the tube, but rather is completely absorbed by it, and extruded out at the end of the experience, never quite the same again. It’s another reason why I could never really live in London. I can take the city in small doses (usually less than twenty four hours) but give me Belfast or Plymouth in a heartbeat. I couldn’t live in a place where I’m one of the slower people on the pavement. If you don’t know, my walking speed is absurdly fast, and to have regular sized people overtake me is disturbing. Nobody needs to get anywhere as fast as that!

“A service of light refreshments is available on this train. No, really it is. We promise. What? You can’t see it? It’s at the other end of the train. No, the other end.”