Train In Vain

Following a New Year's resolution to heighten the sex appeal of Never In All My Life's content, I thought I'd open 2008 with a post bemoaning Britain's privatised railway network. Do stop me if it all gets a bit too steamy.

What a shambles it is. When British Rail was broken up and sold off by the Tories in 1993, it was on the premise that the private sector would provide the necessary finances and a market-driven approach to produce an efficient service for passengers. Balderdash. With 25 different franchises making for a confusing network, ridiculously expensive ticket prices that can vary wildly if you have to use two different train operators for one journey, unreliable and severely overcrowded services, and profit being put before rail safety, the whole thing is a joke. Naturally, nationalisation is the most sensible and rational solution. Although the much maligned British Rail was in decline before it was broken up, this was hardly surprising given that the whole state-owned rail system had been deliberately and systematically undermined by a Conservative government preoccupied with advancing the automobile industry and that saw the railways as an expensive hinderance.

It's difficult to turn rail services into a profit while also providing an adequate public service - and that's why you shouldn't try to do both. By their nature, the main purpose of public services such as public transport should be to provide efficient, reliable and affordable services, regardless of profit. Recently, the 'unprofitable services' of the festive period have meant private operators not running any trains atall: not really a public service then, and quite embarrassing when compared to the still-excellent festive rail services enjoyed across Europe, even on Christmas Day. Perhaps most laughably of all, despite escalating ticket prices and shoddy services our 'privatised' rail industry still requires government subsidies to the tune of £4.5billion a year in order to prevent the franchises from collapsing. See, despite only having to operate when they think there's a profit to be had, they're still incapable of running the whole thing. They couldn't organise a... cat.

I've had a fresh bee in my bonnet about all this since last Friday when I had to endure a torturous six-and-a-half-hour train journey to Birmingham for a meetup with university friends (aka Unibond '07) and some of their spice (if the plural of 'mouse' is 'mice', surely 'spouse' must become 'spice'?). After forking out for an extortionately-priced ticket that anyone on the continent would baulk at, my first scheduled train was suddenly cancelled, and the following one was delayed by 98 minutes, which is long enough to soft-boil 32.666 eggs consecutively. Already aghast that private companies could possibly have failed to deliver anything resembling an affordable, reliable and efficient service, I was further incensed when the 98-minute-delayed train finally rolled in with just three carriages. With two trains' worth of passengers piling into this measly accommodation, it made for a most uncomfortable journey for all concerned. It all meant I was so late for Unibond '07 that the university lot - including the high-profile presence of Jess' American boyfriend Alex - only got to enjoy my company for just over three hours. So it's not me you should feel sorry for, it's them. In total, that trip involved 9.5 hours of travelling and 3.5 hours of socialising, which isn't what I consider to be a favourable ratio. Certainly not as favourable as my mechanical torch (as mentioned in my post on Boxing Day), which offers 30 minutes of light from just one minute of frantic manual handle-winding - that's what I call a favourable ratio.