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  • Why the Humble Compact Disc should be Re-evaluated – by Dominic Meakin

    Dear reader, you may know, if you saw the public service announcement, that I have been a touch busy recently. One way that I can still provide meaningful content is to invite guest bloggers, and indeed the article you are reading was not written by me, but my good friend Dominic. Without further ado, take it away Dominic…

    On embarking on a new academic year at University, I have noticed that as expected there are a number of minor changes to the various study spaces. Most changes were uninteresting to my mind, or were already in progress last year. Nonetheless, when needing to send some files that I had stored on a CD-R via the computers in the study space I realised that not a single computer had even a single driver installed for the purpose of reading a CD; not even a CD drive. Yet this is becoming even more commonplace on the computer market, with fewer laptops and PCs being shipped with an inbuilt drive. Is this the precipice for the downfall of the CD? A quote from a lecturer last year only adds to this long-held suspicion: “It’s on a CD… are you all too young to know what a CD even is?”

    The Compact disc was born out of long development of a videodisc format. Phillips (famous for their 1962 development of earlier tape formats, the Compact Cassette) had released their long anticipated Laserdisc format in 1978 (Although then it was called videodisc in Europe and rather more amusingly ‘Discovision’ in the US), at the dawn of the mainstream home video-cassette formats, such as Sony’s Betamax and JVC’s VHS. While initial sales were promising, it was ultimately a market failure even with a brief revival later amongst film buffs. However the stage had been set for an optical disc format – to the engineers at Phillips the benefits of reading information in this fashion was clear. At Sony, similar developments were taking place in the engineering labs while the accountants were also similarly anxious from it’s own market failure in the form of Elcaset.

    When both companies realised that they were working on essentially the same thing, they formed an alliance much like the previous decade’s Anglo-French Concorde project. And much like Concorde this was a product far removed from the existing market leaders. Upon the release of the Compact Disc between Sony and Phillips to much fanfare on the 17th of August 1982, people were still squabbling over the much-derided release of Queen’s ‘Hot Space’ the vast majority of which were probably owned on LP rather than on Cassette even with sales of LP and singles on the retreat. However, while cassettes would take the crown from LP and singles later in that decade, it was to be short lived as by 1991 CDs were king of sales. Much to the relief of both companies Compact-Disc was a roaring success.

    At the time of release another revolution was taking place elsewhere on the consumer electronics market. In the UK Sinclair unveiled one of the first truly affordable home computers which would ignite the computer boom here. Commodore released its own affordable development of its existing computer line which featured a storage format that had previously been generally considered suitable only for a business environment – the Floppy diskette. While the UK doggedly stuck with the compact cassette as a storage medium due to it still being astronomically expensive here for the lion’s share of the 1980s, it was a hit with the Americans. However, a 5 ½’’ diskette (which Sony was producing amongst many other suppliers of blank media) held only a laughably small 1.2 MB (at best) by today’s standards. In order for the compact-disc to be a successful competitor to the contemporary formats it needed a mammoth amount of data to handle for the time. In fact it could hold up to 700MB of data. It did not take long for discussions of whole libraries to be held on one hand held disc in hurried excitement. Indeed, not long after the Red book standard for the Compact Disc was published, the Yellow book was introduced to specify how such a format could be expanded into computer storage. Around the same time a way of writing and reading the disk within a compact space was developed and the CD-ROM as well as CD-R was added to the mix.

    While other competitors including Phillips own Digital-Compact-Cassette and Sony’s Minidisc formats have come and gone, the CD has remained the dominant format for many years. In this present time there is a new competitor which seems to be the very opposite of dying away: online streaming. With the introduction of the mp3 format and a suitable number of players (most notably Apple’s iPod of 2001) and the vast expansion of online services such as Spotify, iTunes and Amazon Music it has never been easier to access music at the touch of a button. At the same time it almost seems that the venerable CD is in terminal decline. Even the old LP and Single as well as cassettes of yesteryear have taken the music publishers by surprise in their resurgence against the CD.

    These formats each have their own unique advantages and quirks, but the poor old CD is seemingly becoming more and more irrelevant to today’s society. So I thought I would put together the virtues that CDs still have. In fact CDs are even better than they were upon introduction back in the 1980s. Never to keep still, Sony and Phillips have introduced improvements to the manufacturing process and the resistance of CD players to the dreaded ‘CD skipping’ issue that plagued early portable players. Away from the development labs, studios have developed experience in mastering CDs, which in the early days was poorly optimised for the format.

    One key advantage of most respectable CD releases is their increased dynamic range (the range in volume between the quietest and loudest parts of a piece), although ironically one of the most damaging events to the reputation of the CD was the ‘loudness wars’ which achieved precisely the opposite. In the 1990s some studios realised that the 700MB capacity of the CD could hold a large amount of music on 1 disc through aggressive compression. Soon this caught on as it made it cheaper to produce a long album on 1 disc than 2. This could in extreme circumstances reduce the music held on the disc to a tinny mess, and started to sow seeds of doubt in the capabilities of the format.

    Happily, though much of the range produced from this era has been re-released onto remastered discs with the artificial compression removed. So much so, that in comparison to the now ubiquitous mp3 and others such as .ogg found online, conceived in an age when many computers were hooked to 56k modems, a well-produced CD can outclass the streamed equivalent. I have been fortunate to have sampled music in a variety of formats; from open reel recorders running at 15ips to LPs, and mp3s but I can say that few can match the quality of a well-produced CD. The only format that I’ve come across at least that has noticeably outperformed a CD would an open reel recording, but this was a format intended, in the most part, to reside within the walls of a professional studio.

    An advantage shared by many formats away from the streaming services is that it is a physical copy of the music. While one may download music and save it on a phone or computer, most people do not do this and a reliance on streaming as the primary source of music can build up a fallibility when disconnected from the internet. Having a collection of music to hand either at home on a shelf or stowed away in your bag for listening on the go can be more appealing than opening a page and retrieving it from storage on a device. Seeing the cover and having additional material which cannot be provided on a downloaded or streamed copy of the music can add to the experience of listening to an album. Ownership of each copy is a contentious issue associated with streaming music. When one streams a piece of music they only have an agreement to play the music for their own use. The streaming service and the publisher ‘owns’ the copy of the music rather than the customer. This can allow the streaming service to remove the right to access customer’s music if they deem it necessary. However with physical media once the customer purchases their copy they may play it as much as they wish and in any way they see fit within the legal confines of copyright law.

    These are just some of the reasons that the CD can still hold light in today’s market. Whilst the decline and fall of the CD is set to continue its course, (perhaps because many of the interesting features about the CD are hidden from view unlike some of the older formats which have found new life) maybe the next time you are looking to buy an album you might want to consider adding a CD copy to that list.

     

    October 14, 2018
    CD, Compact Disk, Computers, Guest, Technology

  • A Public Service Announcement

    Arrow

    Good (insert time of reading) dear reader. There are some issues with my blog that I felt merited your attention (all in good time of course). In no particular order, these are:

    The site identity has been changed, on the day I am writing this, just a bit. I was quite fond of the old one, but I gather it was rather inconvenient since if you wanted to read an older article you had to scroll down a very long way. This new one should be a little easier, but if you have any particular objection to it, don’t hesitate to let me know by whatever means is most convenient.

    I have never really had a regular schedule, but these days the schedule of sorts may become even less regular, due to an unusually busy period. The last post was on September 30th, which at the time of writing was just over a week ago. This is rather inconvenient if you enjoy (though even if you like suffering through them the point stands) my writings but do please be patient; if  I have a good idea for a post, I shall attempt to write it up.

    If you came here from my personal Facebook, then you might have noticed that every single one of my posts has been linked to there. While this is a useful way of getting the word (or should that be words) out, it may be getting rather annoying. If so (or, on the contrary, if not), if you could let me know, that would be greatly appreciated. I suggest if you (by some miracle) enjoy my content, and I decide to cease Facebook services, you follow this blog via email. Don’t worry, it will not spam you with emails, but you will receive an email every time I post something, notifying you of this fact.

    Regular programming will resume… as soon as is reasonably practicable.

    October 7, 2018

  • The Other End of the Spectrum – And What I Learned on Megabus

    Dear reader, you may have noticed me going on about first class recently, and I may have mentioned that this is rather unusual as far as my travel arrangements are concerned. Well, recently, the time had come to do something that, once upon a time, never imagined doing – taking a Megabus.

    I should explain that I made every effort not to. Timetables were consulted, the internet scoured, multiple options considered, hotel rooms looked into. I even considered National Express, but the timings just wouldn’t fit. It did look as if I was going to have to rely on getting a lift in a private car, which, while the conventional thing to do, is hardly in the spirit of things. In short; where’s the fun in that?

    But, after a short consultation of the Megabus website, it seemed that they might be the ones to rescue me from this predicament, however reluctant I might be to accept the rescue. I bit the bullet and booked a return trip.

    This is the first thing that I learned, and I think the rail industry in particular can learn from – the Megabus website is a very useful one. Rather than endless options concerning railcards, passenger types, time of travel, there are simple, easy to understand buttons. Adverts are not allowed to get in the way of the booking section (helpfully situated at the top of the homepage), instead they are for your perusal at the bottom of the page (unusual considering that Megabus are a budget operator).

    Now I will admit that this is largely because the railways have incredibly onerous fare regulations, resulting in literally millions of different fares. This is due to the fact that, despite the names of various fares changing, the regulations were locked in as of the mid 1990s, when British Rail was privatised. Another problem is that there must be a ticket between every pair of stations, however minor. (I must also mention that many fares are regulated by the Department for Transport, and that when fares increases are announced, the average increase in these is what is quoted).

    The fares are, as one might expect from a budget coach operator, low. It must be mentioned that the best advance train tickets are better, but these tickets can be hard to find and you need a railcard to access great savings. The amount I spent (which, to add some suspense, shall remain undisclosed) was very low without any special discount – quite convenient indeed.

    Of course, I am not going to pretend that waking up at half past 3 in the morning to catch a bus is a fun thing to do. Neither will I pretend that the bus stop in question was a particularly pleasant place to be, but I suppose that, given the small amount of money required to take a Megabus, one cannot complain.

    The first thing that I noticed when the Megabus arrived was good old fashioned customer service. Despite the early morning and unpleasant surroundings, the driver was very friendly and helpful, something all transport undertakings can learn from. Luggage space was also cavernous, under the floor of the bus; quite the opposite of the railway situation where luggage space has been shrinking for years.

    Actually stepping on board, the next thing one notices is that the seats are rather small, if not necessarily uncomfortable, though again one cannot complain since the prices are so small. Despite this cost saving, both plug sockets (actual 3 pin ones, not the smaller USB type that you get on some buses, if you’re lucky) and Wi-Fi (which appears to be rather good, if the amount of other passenger’s phones on display was anything to go by). These facilities are surprising given that Megabus are a budget coach operator, and even the newest trains sometimes have neither of these features (I’m looking at you Thameslink).

    Actually getting on the move, the coach was remarkably smooth (almost as good as a train) given that a coach is a road bound vehicle. This might be because the particular coach I was on had 3 axles, and thus 6 rather large wheels, rather than the standard 4 wheels. That said, I’m not a mechanical engineer so I am not really qualified to say.

    One disadvantage of the journey down, sitting as I was on the back row of the coach, was the lack of room for reading, with a book having to be held with arms very close together so as not to touch anyone else on the row. Needless to say this was uncomfortable, but:

    a) I’m British. The idea of accidentally touching someone else on public transport is one of the scariest imaginable and

    b)  This problem sometimes manifests itself on trains and

    c) If I was driving, even attempting to read a book would be out of the question.

    Alas, after 3 hours of smooth, mainly motorway driving, we arrived at Victoria Coach Station. The trouble here is that, unbeknown to first time travellers, Victoria is separated into Arrivals and Departures, with quite a distance between the two. The arrivals section appears rather dangerous since one must make one’s way around coaches to get to the exit, with apparently nothing to prevent said coaches from moving and running one over. It is a small miracle that one does not hear of such incidents very often, and perhaps here is an area in which the coach industry can learn from rail (there hasn’t been an accident fatality on UK railways for 11 years).

    Much later, my business in London complete, I returned to Victoria (just the coach station, though I am quite fond of the railway station too), and I must say I was much more impressed with the departures section. Right from the start (this might sound obvious but I’ll explain why I’m mentioning it later) the station is geared to get passengers on the right coach. Large screens showing all coach departures, by time, destination and operator, adorn the entrance hall, and easy to read, well placed signs direct the passenger to the correct gate. The gates themselves are marked by large numbers in a kind of stylised circle, a decorative touch that does not detract from the overall usefulness of the sign.

    This is all the more surprising given the recent trend on the railways. One might imagine the purpose of a railway station would be to get passengers (who, let’s not forget, fund the vast majority of rail operations, and cover most of the costs of day to day running) on the correct trains. This fits quite neatly into my personal definition for the purpose of the railway – to get people where they want to be, when they want to be there (yes there is freight too, but this is increasingly niche). Sadly, Network Rail (who actually own the vast majority of the stations, even those operated by Train Operators) have taken it upon themselves to turn stations into miniature (and in some cases not so miniature) shopping centres, leading to some confusion as to where the actual platforms are, and where people ought to be going.

    Let me illustrate this point with an example; the recently renovated Birmingham New Street. New Street has always had something of a reputation as it was rebuilt in the 1960s under a shopping centre, not the wisest move when many of the trains belch diesel fumes (though new ventilation has done much to improve matters). While the shopping centre in question, the Palisades, was an ever present feature above the station, it was never allowed to intrude upon the passenger areas which were simple and easy to navigate. I am not going to argue the old New Street was a pleasant place to be, but it was at least an easy to use station, and the British Rail signage was clear and well positioned.

    Now, the station is confused. On the one hand, the platforms themselves are still marked New Street, and the station still listed on National Rail Enquiries as Birmingham New Street (BHM). On the other, the new shopping centre is known as Grand Central, with this name emblazoned in large letters on top of the station come shopping centre, and on the adjacent tram stop. Going inside reveals even more confusion, as there is no definite dividing line between the two, and even a partition of platforms at one end into two “Lounges” to allow shoppers not to have to go through any ticket barriers (apparently with no regard to passengers who have to either go through two sets of barriers or the other end of the station). The newer signage hardly helps, with small, fiddly white letters on a blue background, sometimes with utterly useless phrases like “metro”, which actually refers to the trams, but sounds as if it could be for trains or even buses.

    Meanwhile, at Victoria Coach Station, what shops there are are to the side, to allow a free flow of passengers to the gates (getting people where they want to be, when they want to be there). Domestic passengers are not interrupted by the European check in, which is only by those gates from which international departures, erm, depart. Furthermore, in complete contrast to the arrival arrangements, one will only be allowed to leave the departure building when the coach is ready and staff open the gate, a much safer system. The fact that coaches are cleaned between the arrival and departure sections is very welcome, and again a contrast to rail practice where trains frequently receive no attention whatsoever from the cleaners when being turned around in London, even after long journeys.

    The coach home was a good 40 minutes late, but this is to be expected given that coaches are at the mercy of traffic, road accidents, and so on and so forth. This is another advantage of trains – in most cases, trains are either on time or within a few minutes of time (an impression you certainly don’t get from most media coverage) and incidents are relatively rare. While I mention it, Train Operators are legally obligated to get you home if the last train is cancelled (this means, for example, paying for a taxi) whereas, as far as I am aware, Coach Operators are under no such obligations. Advantage train, this paragraph, it would seem.

    Mind you, it is nice that the lights were dimmed on the coach at night, something I have yet to encounter on a train. Near-perfect reading lights, that cover a sufficient area with enough illumination to read comfortably, yet not enough to wake your neighbour, are provided. Stepping off the coach in the early hours of a new day, I made finally for home.

    To conclude, what have we learned? Well, quite a lot, but the main thing to take away is that Megabus really aren’t that bad. If you’re looking at this from the perspective of the railways, you really can’t be complacent – the competition isn’t crap anymore.

    In any case, it only remains for me to thank you for reading, and ask you politely to share this with others, if you feel those others might enjoy the article.

     

     

     

    September 30, 2018
    Coach, London, Megabus, Travel, Victoria

  • Tying Up Some Loose Ends

    If you are a regular reader of my blog, you may have noticed I leave a lot of notes such as “I may write on this in future” or “more on this in future”. However, if you are an observant reader, you may also have noticed that at no point have I actually written up any of the things I  promised to. Today I hope to remedy the situation.

    The first item on the list comes from the second article I wrote, concerning what I believe to be the Golden Era of British Railways. I promised to write of the great hopes of investment the various railways had before WW2, which were dashed by that terrible clash.

    One big campaign during the late 1930s was for a “fair deal” for the railways. You see, during this period, they were considered Common Carriers – that is, they had to carry anything they were asked to, by law. This meant that all kinds of awkward loads, however expensive or difficult to transport, would have to be transported, as long as they could somehow be fitted into the loading gauge. Suffice to say, road hauliers were under no such obligations, and the war meant that the military needed to transport all kinds of things anyways.

    So if freight was unlikely to make more money, what of passengers? Well, the main hope was new technology. All four of the big railways at the time used steam engines almost exclusively, despite new diesel and electric technology being available. Steam engines were (and are) expensive, labour intensive and dirty. Various railways had various ideas for how to solve this problem.

    The London & North Eastern saw the future in electric traction (and indeed after the war one main line was done) and their Chief Mechanical Engineer (one Sir Nigel Gresley) designed electric locomotives before he died. The London, Midland & Scottish went another way and experimented extensively with diesels, particularly diesel electrics (where a diesel generator generates electricity to power motors which drive the wheels). The Southern already had an established programme of third-rail electrification, and this system still survives across wide areas of the south of England, as well as experimenting with diesel electrification. The Great Western decided (inevitably) to be different and ordered gas turbine locomotives from Switzerland, which, to cut a long story short, turned out to be rubbish when they arrived after the war.

    The very next article, about 1950s British aviation (and its incredibly ambitious nature), I mentioned that flying below the radar might be a good way of combatting Soviet surface-to-air missiles and that it was indeed tried. Ultimately, this aircraft (unlike many designs of the era) did actually fly, and it was billed not just as a V Bomber replacement but also as a replacement for another bomber, the English Electric Canberra, a much earlier jet bomber. It was called the Tactical Strike & Reconnaissance 2, or TSR 2 for short. This was also the only aircraft to be recommended for development after the 1957 Defence White Paper.

    This aircraft had a troubled development history, as it was designed by the fledgling British Aircraft Corporation, or BAC (they did love their acronyms). BAC was formed by the merging of several smaller aircraft firms, the idea being to make the British aviation industry more efficient. Unfortunately this meant that rather than having a small team of expert designers there were now huge unmanageable committees who all thought they were important. English Electric’s aircraft division, the only British company to have yet built a supersonic aircraft (the famous Lightning), had their former staff given senior positions, much to everyone else’s annoyance.

    Despite the difficulty, the resulting aircraft was a world beater. First flying in 1964, it had an on board computer, autopilot, a head-up display and terrain following radar. Attention to detail was obsessive; the canopy glass was coated in gold alloy to reflect the light from a nuclear blast. It would have been easily capable of Mach 2, had it ever been tested up to that speed, but sadly the project was cancelled in April 1965 by a Labour government keen to reduce costs. It was thought that Britain could purchase American F-111s instead, but these failed to materialise.

    In my defence of Dr. Beeching, I mentioned, but failed to elaborate on, the modernisation plan of 1955. To cut a very long story short, the plan was to replace steam completely on Britain’s railways with diesel and electric traction. It was incredibly expensive, and, while there were some notable successes (including electrifying a good chunk of the West Coast Main Line and introducing the mighty 3000 hp Deltics on the East Coast) large parts of the plan were mismanaged, and many lines, even with cheaper diesels, were never going to make money anyways.

    I did mention the Fairey Delta 2 in an article about Concorde. Alas, this one will have to be further postponed until I do some more research. The basic facts of the matter were already in the article and I see no real need to repeat them here, but you might be interested to know that it utilised a Rolls Royce Avon engine, which the English Electric Lightning also used (although the Lightning had 2).

    In an article concerning new bi-mode trains, I did mention the nationalisation debate. This too will have to be postponed for a better thought out and researched post, but suffice to say that I:

    a) Think the debate has been framed poorly, due to the various actors in the railways at the moment and

    b) Am not in favour

    An article on Luftwaffe logistics brought up the Messerschmitt Me262 and Me 163. We’ll start with the 163, the rocket-propelled one. As previously mentioned, the fuel was hypergolic, but, as not previously mentioned, the fuels reacted extremely quickly. So quickly, in fact, that the engine only lasted about 6 minutes in service, perhaps 8 on a good day. The fastest fighter of World War 2 would then have to glide very slowly back to base where it was very vulnerable to attack by Allied fighters (insert curb your meme music here). Not that the speed helped. Only 9 aircraft fell victim of the Me 163 Komet, in its war career of nearly a year.

    The Me 262 was an incredibly advanced aircraft for the time. It had swept wings (though not really swept enough to make a practical difference), axial flow jet engines (the kind we still use today, not the centrifugal flow ones the British used at the time). Messerschmitt’s finest also came with a pair of leading edge slats, that would automatically deploy (this was just clever aerodynamics, there were no computers here) below a certain speed, to make landing easier. While this was very clever, it was also a huge disadvantage when the Allies got wind of the slow speeds when coming into land. They sent piston engine fighters after them (notably the new British Hawker Tempest) which could tear the German jets to shreds, which in turn meant the Germans ringed their airfields with a quite ludicrous number of anti-aircraft guns. German piston-engine fighters were also brought in to deal with this new threat. I think you can probably tell that all this was an enormous waste of resources and further worsened the war situation for the Nazis, despite the revolutionary new technology (another possible curb your meme).

    All this brings me, and consequently you, up to date. I can only assume that if you’re reading this you are either looking for an insomnia cure, or you’ve been on the edge of your seat waiting for all these posts I’ve promised, and are now disappointed that it’s all come out as a kind of horrid, tasteless mismatch. Ah well, you’ve read it now, you’re never getting those minutes back.

     

     

     

    September 21, 2018

  • Pete’s Marvellous First Class Adventure (with some un-marvellous bits thrown in)

    Now, dear reader, despite the rather up-market language I am fond of using, I am in fact a very regular person, living a relatively normal life, with relatively normal friends and so on. I am not in the habit of going to balls, formal dinners, or board meetings. To be quite honest, the concept of brunch I find slightly too upper class, so you could be forgiven for thinking that I travel standard class all the time. And you’d be correct, normally.

    However, for my mother’s birthday, since we could get some cheaper advance tickets, we decided to go first class. This is a lesson for all those who seem to think railways are terrifically expensive – book in advance and there are frequently savings to be made. Admittedly, we did not go first for our entire journey, but that is really besides the point, since I’m sure that you’re all familiar with what standard class looks and feels like (though I suppose there are minor differences between operators, but such minutiae are beneath this very up-itself article).

    Our story begins in the strangely topsy-turvy world of Birmingham New Street. This is not a place I am unfamiliar with. After all, I have spent many evenings watching trains here, and many hours waiting for trains within its confines. Why topsy-turvy? Good question, glad you asked. The upper reaches of the station are now quite a pleasant place to be, with an interesting bubble roof, natural light, and a pleasing lack of exposed concrete. The actual platforms, while a little brighter than before, are still rather unpleasant, since putting the concourse and shops on the top of the platforms and running lines results in diesel fumes staying down there, despite the improved ventilation (as a side note, I wonder how much my life has been shortened by breathing in said diesel fumes; I assume by at least several minutes).

    However, today, I was not going to gawp at trains on the platform or wander aimlessly about the concourse. No. Today, we were heading for the first class lounge, which has an entirely different character to the rest of the station. The first thing you notice is that the lounge is far quieter than the rest of the station. Then you notice the suits, and the lack of anyone who could reasonably be defined as a ragamuffin. One can, of course, in the first class lounge, get complimentary tea, coffee, small snacks, and even Pepsi (not exactly a high class drink, it must be said).

    Sitting very comfortably in the lounge is wonderful, but the purpose of a railway station is to get people on trains (and the correct ones at that – perhaps I shall write about that at some point). So on we went towards platform 6, a bit of a faff from the first class lounge, as you must go through two sets of ticket barriers (okay, yes, it is in theory possible to go through only one set of barriers, but it is hardly a logical route). Platform 6 is much like many of the other platforms. Splitting it into a) and b) proved academic since our train arrived in the form of an 11 coach Virgin Pendolino (Virgin Dream was spangled rather nicely on its nameplate, though it had seen better days). It is a sad fact that those in the original livery are looking rather shabby these days, and are in need of a repaint. It is a shame that the new livery is just plain white, but that is another matter.

    The interior of a first class coach could almost not be further from that in standard. Seats here are arranged in 2+1 format, with tables at every seat and, joy of joys, the seats even line up with the windows. Each seat is provided with a smart mug and a glass, for hot and cold drinks respectively, placed on a ceramic tray which is also very smart (all these things are smart in the terms of looking smart, to the best of my knowledge they contain no computers, nor would they put on a good show on mastermind)

    Of course, the other thing that happened to me in first class was that I was addressed, not with the usual ambivalence or hostility, but as “sir”. Suffice to say, the first time this happened, I was quite taken aback, and almost felt the need to correct them. Alas, as time goes on, you do get used to it, and in this way I think first class is rather bad for the soul, since you end up with an inflated sense of your own importance. That said, worldly indulgence is sometimes a wonderful pick-me-up, and I certainly won’t be telling you never to do it.

    I would complain that:

    a) We were only served cold drinks once on a journey of several hours

    b) There were no newspapers on the train, which you are normally allowed

    However:

    a) A plethora of cold drinks was available in the first class lounge and

    b) Cold water was available from a fridge in the middle of the coach and

    b) A choice of regular or financial times was also available in the lounge and

    c) I am not that entitled to complain about two very minor problems in an otherwise amazing environment

    However, after many happy hours of lounging about in the lap of luxury, we were forced to get off by the arrival at our destination. The other very minor problem with first class is that the first class coaches tend to be on the London end of the train, so if you’re going north you sometimes have to walk past all the standard class passengers on your way to the exit. Now it is tempting to be a massive snob about the everyday hoards, but my next railway journey will definitely be standard class and it really isn’t in my interest to mock my future self (feel free to do that yourself though).

    Some days later, that particular trip having run its course, we travelled back, this time via a slightly different route, which would involve travelling first class with LNER. I should mention that this LNER, or London & North Eastern Railway, is not the same in any way (other than running trains on the same route) as the original London & North Eastern Railway, of Flying Scotsman and Mallard fame (though they didn’t actually build Flying Scotsman, but there’s a tangent for another day). The current LNER is just a brand name used by the Department for Transport for the operator of last resort (controlled by the Department for Transport, run by various companies including SNC Lavalin), which took over from Virgin Trains East Coast (which was itself mainly owned by Stagecoach). The point of this paragraph is twofold – firstly, almost every name on the railway is to some extent a lie, and secondly, that I am a huge fan of brackets (or parentheses, depending on your preference).

    One must admit that LNER’s first class lounge in Edinburgh is also an incredibly nice place to be, though on this occasion it was slightly shabby, and the choice of cold drinks was rather lacking. That said, conditions on the train counteracted these two problems so I should not complain. Instead, let me tell you of the comfort of the seats, which was, and I don’t use this word lightly, superb, and the quiet ambience that surrounds all such places.

    The train southwards was an HST, which I have rambled on about in the past (see this article), but suffice to say, these beautiful machines are 40 years old and still going strong, with relatively minor modifications. One of these modifications was the refurbished interior, which was done by Virgin Trains East Coast, but so you don’t notice all mention of Virgin has been removed. Do not, however, let that distract you from the sheer magnificence of the leather seats, the neat arrangement of tables and the pleasing manner in which you are addressed by staff.

    Indeed, I was again called “sir”, and, although I registered a suitable amount of embarrassment, I was beginning to become used to it. I was offered several cold drinks, including a coke, which I gladly accepted. A full fat one too, for why would you go first class and then have some tasteless, characterless diet drink thrust upon you? I certainly have no idea why anybody would do that.

    One advantage of travelling by HST is that, at least for now, on most of them, you can open the door windows to let a bit of fresh air into the vestibule, no doubt a lifesaver in a crowded standard class coach, but a mere refreshing change from the air conditioning in first class. A disadvantage however is that the ride quality has rather suffered in the 40 years since these coaches were introduced, and gets almost (but not quite) to the point of spilling one’s drink in several places. On our coach, it must be added, the toilet did not flush properly either, but since I was only urinating, this proved not too much of an issue.

    It seemed almost a shame to get off at the rather empty and unfriendly platforms of Peterborough station, but this did at least give us the chance to use a flushing toilet and just catch a late running (every cloud has a silver lining) cross country train home, to sample its first class. While I gather that this is rather better on their Voyager and HST train, the first class on the class 170 (I promise I won’t get any more technical than that) is competent, and nothing more. Seats are comfortable, and recline slightly, but there appears to be little to no actual service to accompany them. That said, at least it was a quiet and stable ride home.

    This is the point in the article where I have to issue some disclaimers. Like men, first class sections were not created equal – Virgin and LNER are known for their good service, but other operators may leave you sorely disappointed. In particular, commuter trains in London very rarely have a decent first class section, with usually the same seating layout as standard, no service or catering whatsoever, and just a set of doors to remind you that you are in first (though there are some exceptions, in particular on Greater Anglia’s class 379 trains). The reason for the spartan first class is that you are entitled to a full refund should you fail to get a seat if you are a first class ticket holder, and this really is what you are buying when you pay for first class in those cases.

    All that now remains is for me to wish you an excellent day, and to ask, politely, if you know anyone who might enjoy this, that you pass it on to them. Not that it’s mandatory, we live in a free society after all, but it would be appreciated. I really must stop waffling…

     

     

     

     

     

    September 19, 2018
    Birmingham, Edinburgh, England, First Class, LNER, London, Scotland, Trains, Travel, Virgin, Virgin Trains

  • Pete’s Adventures in Tramland

    Dear readers, let me start by apologising for the lack of posts. I am afraid I simply ran out of material to write about, and did the only thing one can – bugger off somewhere else.

    I made my way, through a cheap but nonetheless not especially cheerful Centrebus service (and there’s a whole other article), to Nottingham. Nottingham, the city of Robin Hood, the capital of the East Midlands if ever there was one, and the proud home of several universities. I was not, however, on my way to celebrate any of these things. As one might expect, upon stepping off the bus I made straight for the nearest tram stop.

    Having bought my ticket, I settled down with a trusty copy of that day’s Metro to enjoy the delights of the Nottingham suburbs. It started very well. The newer tram I was on was clean, quiet, comfortable and not full of crying babies. In the end, I regretted going to Toton Lane – there is little there, save for a huge, tarmac car park, and a small food and drink stall. The attendant at the food and drink stall showed little interest in me as I walked by.

    Alas, I went back up to the centre of Nottingham, on an older tram whose floor, once just green, now green with a liberal sprinkling of brown, told me it had seen better days. Luckily I got off at Old Market Square, and, after a small misunderstanding involving a Burger King drinks machine, I was back on the tram, this time heading for the impressively named Pheonix Park, only to find that it contained a car park rather than a firebird. One bonus was that the Phoenix Park bit is a little single line section, with a very cute stop called Cinderhill.

    Next was Hucknall, one of Nottingham’s less reputable suburbs. Here, the tram is right next to the Robin Hood line which goes off toward Worksop. It too lacks romance, as 1980s Diesels (1990s if you’re lucky) work their way out of Nottingham and into the countryside. East Midlands Trains, bless them, are trying their best, and there’s a train each way every half hour.

    The most interesting thing here is the enormous Tesco, so large it’s more of a department store than a supermarket. Weekly shop? tick. New computer? No problem. New wardrobe? Sure. Oh, and, as well as the Tesco, there is another vast car park (something of a theme I’m afraid). Leaving Hucknall, I left, intending to go to Clifton South, making my way back towards Old Market Square.

    I quickly realised, consulting my watch, I would just miss the bus home. Due to Centrebus’ aforementioned un-cheerful service, I would have to wait over 3 hours for the next one. Happily, Nottingham has a Waterstones, and a ruddy good one at that. 4 floors of books, magazines, stories and even a Costa coffee.  A good hour and a half of time (but no money) was spent looking at lovely books, before I continued.

    The line out to Clifton South, like the line to Hucknall, has a fast section (70 fine kilometres per hour, you know) following a beautiful crossing of the Trent, which few of my fellow passengers seemed moved by. To the surprise of absolutely no-one, Clifton South proved to be yet another car park. I’ve been a bit harsh on Nottingham Express Transit – their service is perfectly acceptable. Smoother and quieter than a bus, and considerably less polluting, I did express to them my gratitude over email.

    A couple of days went by and I journeyed to Sheffield, courtesy of a train operated by Northern. £8 from Nottingham to Sheffield, with a railcard, is not a bad price at all, and, while the interior hadn’t seen much attention in the last decade, it was at least clean. Despite all Northern’s troubles, the train hadn’t been cancelled, and led to my arriving in Sheffield 4 minutes late. I then once again made for the trams.

    Unfortunately (or helpfully, depending on one’s outlook), you have to buy a ticket from a real person (the conductor) on the Sheffield Supertram, whose colour scheme is certainly hard to miss. The even crummier suburbs of Sheffield beckoned, but after a strange look from the conductor (who was about 6ft 6 in every direction) at Malin Bridge, I was soon heading back to the city centre.

    I had already learned I would be denied my chance to be pedantic about Halfway (the stop of that name, that is) being at the end of the line, as all the track was shut for maintenance from Gleadless Townend onwards. I wasn’t too put out though, as the view from the hill is quite something. I was able to make a quick getaway on a tram already waiting there, without a look of any sort from the conductor.

    Sheffield’s trams differ from Nottingham’s in that they feel more like a train with some low bits than a tram in its own right. The ancient moquette may be tatty on the old trams, but the ride quality pips Nottingham to the post, and you really do notice the lack of padding on the newer seats. Sometime soon they’ll start running some of them up to Rotherham on the conventional railway, so I guess this might be intentional.

    And then there was Meadowhall, which was not as I expected. From the outside, the buildings are made to look quite in keeping, old fashioned even. I was thus expecting the inside to be something like the Trafford Centre in Manchester, but in reality it was more like the Starship Enterprise. After a short but expensive pit stop in Five Guys, I carried on back to Sheffield and my train, which was promptly delayed by a late running Cross Country train.

    Back in Nottingham, I then practiced the art of waiting for the next 50 minutes. Part of it was spent watching an old High Speed Train rumble in from St. Pancras (2 minutes late, if you’re interested), but the rest was spent wandering around aimlessly, something I’m getting really rather good at. I then boarded the Centrebus, and went home.

    These past thousand or so words are really just a (rather shoddy) explanation of what I have been doing, rather than the usual article on here. Mind you, if you enjoy this style, I might even try more of them.

     

     

     

     

     

     

    September 8, 2018
    NET, Nottingham, Sheffield, Supertram, Trams, Travel

  • A Defence of The Worst Train in Britain

    In Britain, we are lucky to have some excellent examples of the railway art. In particular, the truly magnificent HS1, which allows one to reach Ashford from London in a mere 38 minutes, at up to 140 mph, or, to transport one at up to 186 mph on a rather beautiful Eurostar on one’s holidays to the continent.

    Alas, this is not an article about that railway. Today, I want to draw your attention upon the other end of the spectrum, the veritable base model of passenger transport in Britain. I am of course talking about the Pacer (a picture can be found here, you’ll almost certainly recognise these if you live in the North), the bastard child of a British Leyland bus and an old freight wagon, truly the blight of the North. Except that is the short version of the story. You see, few people bother to explain why the Pacers are the way they are, and why they just might be the most important trains on the network.

    To explain why this is the case, we need to understand a little about the railway when the Pacers were created. The recession of the early 1980s hit the UK quite hard, and the railways in particular. During this time, British Rail suffered from a huge maintenance backlog, causing it to ask for more subsidy from government, to cover these costs and to subsidise otherwise unviable services on local lines.

    Unfortunately, the government they were dealing with was the government of Margaret Thatcher. The inconvenient truth was that they were not prepared to fund British Rail in the face of decreasing passenger numbers, fights with the unions, and increasingly outdated methods and equipment. In fact, the government viewed the railways so poorly that the very concept of the railways was under threat in this period, and a report was commissioned, led by the retired civil servant Sir David Serpell, to look into the state and prospects for Britain’s railways. It was dubbed the Serpell report.

    Unsurprisingly, it was not an optimistic report. It consisted of several “options” for Britain’s railways, all proposing different sizes of network, based on different financial criteria. The most severe of these options was Option A, which would have reduced the network from just over 10,000 miles (as it was in 1982) to just 1,630 miles, leaving many places completely off the railway map. It was described as “A commercially viable railway which might be sustained in the long run with no financial support from public funds”. This would have left anywhere south west of Bristol off the railway map completely, along with anywhere north of Glasgow or Edinburgh, and the Midland Main Line linking Leicester, Nottingham and Sheffield with London too would have disappeared.

    Suffice to say, this report did not go down well. Before it had even been released, parts of the report had been leaked to the press, who dutifully informed the nation. Thus the well had been poisoned before even a drop had been extracted. It did not matter that other, more optimistic options existed in the report – further railway cuts simply could not be made without huge public backlash.

    Instead, British Rail would have to make the current network cheaper. Work had been carried out in the 1970s to investigate the possibility of a railbus, that is, a cheap railway vehicle based on a bus, but this had not been ready for production; the first prototype, the Leyland Experimental Vehicle 1, or LEV1, did not originally even have an engine. By the early 1980s, however, sufficient research had been conducted that BR felt they could risk a production run, and this appeared as the class 141 in 1984.

    The new train was hardly a hit with passengers. In fact, the only fittings it had that the older diesels didn’t were power operated doors, and the 141 had the same seats as a bus. The ride quality, then, as now, was dreadful, having just 4 wheels compared to the usual 8, and it was rather noisy on curves. Importantly, however, it was a good deal cheaper to run than the older, first generation diesel trains it replaced.

    Unfortunately, this was a rather narrow vehicle, so a number of different body styles were tried, not that this makes much difference to the fact that the new trains were all still bus bodies on an old freight wagon, at least in design. Indeed, 3 more kinds of Pacer were foisted upon this green and pleasant land, those being classes 142, 143 and 144.

    Anyone who has had experience of any of British Leyland’s cars will not be shocked to learn that later on, all the pacers had to have their original engines and gearboxes replaced with much more reliable Cummins types. Someone also noticed that there weren’t enough seats for some trains, so some of the 144s received an extra coach in the middle, but the biggest change came later when the 141s were all withdrawn as better trains became available. Broadly, however, the formula has remained the same.

    Terrifically interesting, you might be saying (with varying degrees of sarcasm), but so far, you’ve not really demonstrated the importance of these miserable things. It is subtle, I will grant you that, but I’m halfway there. You see, if the pacers had not been built, it may have been uneconomic to run most branch lines. Services might not exist in huge swathes of the north of England, Wales, and possibly the south west, if these cheap but not especially cheerful trains had not existed. Furthermore, had the old trains been kept, when they reached the end of their lives in the 1990s, a business case for their replacement would have been difficult to make for fledgling Train Operating Companies, again leaving lines without trains. In addition, it is almost certain that the rise in passenger numbers since then could not have been accommodated without Pacers.

    Luckily for the average passenger, the Pacer era is coming to an end. New legislation requires that, by 2020, trains be step free inside, and requires toilets that don’t flush waste directly onto the track. Without modification, Pacers won’t meet either requirement. Passenger requirements too have changed – just a train is not enough now, and features like WiFi, plug sockets and air conditioning are perhaps a step too far from early 80s railway austerity. Northern, the largest operator of Pacers, will start withdrawing theirs at the end of this year, as they are displaced by new trains, and they will all be gone by the end of 2019.

    If you want to know more about:

    • The Serpell Report. See this article by Railnews
    • Pacers themselves. See this article by Rail Magazine

    All that remains is for me to thank you for reading this article, and wish you a pleasant day. Oh, and, if you feel inclined, I would like to encourage you to pass this on to someone who might enjoy it.

    August 28, 2018
    141, 142, 143, 144, 1980s, Britain, British Rail, Northern, Pacer, Pacers, Rail, Train, Wales

  • The Murder of Elizabeth Camp

    I don’t want to go on about it, but some parts of this article are somewhat gruesome reading. A small measure of reader discretion is advised.

    The year was 1897, the city London. Railways really were nothing new at this point, and the capital of the British Empire had many, stretching out into the up-and-coming suburbs. The Underground network that Londoners would come to know and love was already well on its way, with the Metropolitan railway having been running trains for over 30 years.

    The railways of London, then as now, were incredibly busy places. However, unlike now, the coaches of the trains were laid out in compartments, rather than the open saloons preferred by modern travellers. This provided a bit of privacy for the Victorian passenger, and separated them from those of other classes with whom they may not wish to rub shoulders. Today, one can still ride in a compartment on a heritage railway, but most carriages that survive have corridors, so you can go to other compartments, or the toilet, while the train is moving. Most carriages of the day had no corridor, so once you were in, you could not move from the compartment until the train stopped.

    For some passengers, this could be a nuisance. If one found oneself in a compartment with a mind-numbingly tedious bore, one could be in for a long journey indeed, particularly with no good excuse to leave. Equally, a crowded compartment could be an unpleasant experience, as the quarters were very close. I can only imagine what it would have been like on a hot summers’ day, in bulky Victorian dress, with no respite until the train stopped.

    Some would use the confines of a railway compartment for nefarious purposes, however. One could not see what was happening in other compartments to one’s own, and thus, a dastardly crime could be committed with very few, or even no witnesses. In an attempt to provide some security to the fairer sex, the railway companies introduced “Ladies Only” compartments. Unfortunately, this somewhat backfired, as if there was one place a potential sex pest could guarantee female company, it was here. It was also not unknown for prostitutes to ply their trade in otherwise empty Ladies Only compartments on quiet trains. Strangely, these compartments would not be completely abolished until the 1970s.

    Crime was not be limited to this kind of compartment, however. Which is where the young, attractive Elizabeth Camp comes in. Elizabeth, aged 33, was a successful manageress of a pub in Walworth, South London, and engaged to Edward Berry, a fruiterer, also in Walworth. 11 February 1897 had, by its evening, proved rather busy for Elizabeth, who had visited her younger sister in Hammersmith that morning, before travelling on to Hounslow to have tea with her elder sister. She had found time to squeeze in some shopping, in anticipation of her wedding, and was thus rather encumbered with parcels. This had not prevented her from having a quick drink in a pub near Hounslow station with her sisters, and a friend of the family, before boarding the 7:42 pm train for Waterloo.

    Her day was not to be over, however, as her fiancé was waiting for her at Waterloo, where he intended to go with her to a music hall that evening. Typically, he was early for the trains’ booked arrival at 8:23 pm. Edward was rather protective over Elizabeth, which, being an intelligent and independent woman, somewhat irritated her.

    The 8:23 arrived 2 minutes late (delays are nothing new) and a throng of passengers surged towards the gate. Mr Berry began to worry – Elizabeth was nowhere to be seen among them. A myriad of thoughts flashed through his mind. She could have been lost in the crowd, somewhere in the station, looking for him, but this was unlikely since she was used to the business of London, and this was far from the busiest time at Waterloo. She also could have missed the train, and may well have got the last train, but again, being a very intelligent woman, this was unlikely.

    During this period, the London & South Western Railway (no relation to the modern South Western Railway) ran the train to Hounslow, and owned Waterloo station. The LSWR would have the train from Hounslow cleaned before it once again journeyed into the suburbs of South West London. These cleaners set about servicing the train as usual.

    Edward noticed that a crowd of railway workers had surrounded the door to one of the compartments of the 8:23. They looked tense. They were soon joined by two railway police officers, who made their way briskly to the scene. One of the cleaners had found the body of a woman on the floor. Both legs were spread wide, and the majority of the head and torso was under the seat on one side. A pool of warm blood oozed across the second-class floor.. More blood had been spattered across the carriage furnishings. Though it was abundantly clear that the woman had met a gruesome end, it was difficult to see any reason as to why, or any details.

    To ascertain what had gone on, the corpse was lifted somewhat unceremoniously onto the platform. Clearly, the woman had sustained a brutal attack with a blunt instrument. Her skull had been viscously set upon with a blunt instrument, and had been smashed and staved in. She also showed signs of having tried to resist her attacker. In addition, her pockets had been rifled through. The body was taken to the morgue at St. Thomas’ hospital.

    Hot on the heels of the remains was the extremely anxious Edward Berry, who feared the worst. He had not so far seen the body up close, or had any contact from Elizabeth, as, after all, it was difficult to do either given the conservatism of society and the lack of telephones. At St. Thomas’, he asked to see the body. Horrified, he confirmed that the body was that of his fiancé.

    Immediately, an investigation was begun, led by Superintendent Robinson of the LSWR Police, and Chief Inspector Marshall of Scotland Yard. Unsurprisingly, the medical report reported the victim had died from heavy blows to the head with a blunt instrument, and, less surprisingly, the compartment yielded few clues as to how the murder had taken place. The only articles of interest recovered from the compartment were a pair of bone cufflinks and a broken umbrella, which turned out to belong to Camp. Missing items included a green purse which Elizabeth had been carried, and her train ticket, which may well have been in the purse.

    Many interviews were carried out to source information. Camp’s elder sister reported that she had been positive the compartment was empty when Elizabeth had entered it, which was confirmed by a porter working at Hounslow, who had helped the sisters to move their packages. Marshall had noted that, when the body had arrived at St. Tomas’, the blood was still warmed, which suggested she had died towards Waterloo, rather than Hounslow. Staff at the stations on this end of the line were interviewed. It was hoped that, since these stations were relatively quiet at the time of the murder, the staff may have seen something, perhaps even someone in blood stained clothing. These interviews turned up nothing.

    Frustrated, Marshall decided to order an investigation of the track on the route the train had taken, no mean feat on a busy railway. On the embankment between Putney and Wandsworth, officers found a chemist’s pestle, usually used for pounding chemicals into powders. It was stained with blood, and had hairs stuck to it – hairs which matched Elizabeth’s. Doctors opined that the injuries Camp had sustained could have been inflicted with said pestle. Unfortunately, as the science was in its infancy, it was not tested for fingerprints.

    Next, Police appealed to anyone on the 7.42 train from Hounslow to come forward. The only useful lead came from a pastry chef by the name of Burgess, who boarded the train at Chiswick and reported seeing a man leave the train in a hurry at Wandsworth. He described a man of medium height, about 30 years of age, wearing a top hat and frock coat and sporting a dark moustache, a description confirmed by two porters. However, with little else to go on, the man was never traced.

    All this time, the Victorian press had worked themselves into a frenzy, as they were wont to do when a murder, especially a murder on a train, had occurred. The more gossip-oriented publications speculated that the motive of the murder was sex, which played right into the hands of the cheap fiction of the time, which contained much about the imagined happenings of lonely maidens in train compartments. Those in this business were almost disappointed when it was established that Elizabeth had not been sexually assaulted.

    In the more reputable press, there was growing concern that a murderer had not been found, and more generally at the slow progress of the investigation. It was this concern that had in part led to the searching of the track between Hounslow and Waterloo, but as is so often the case, the press and public lost interest over time and began to focus on the other horrors of Victorian London.

    Police enquiries, however, continued. They say that you are most likely to be killed by a person, or people, you know, and so many more people were interviewed, this time focusing on people who knew Elizabeth. All proved to have cast-iron alibis, but it emerged that, given her shrewd financial management, Elizabeth had taken to lending money to people who knew her., including the family friend that had joined Elizabeth and her sister for a drink before she boarded the train.

    This friend went by the name of Stone, and he explained to Police that he had had urgent business to attend to, and had left Hounslow, not returning for some hours. Crucially, he knew which train Elizabeth intended to take. It seems unlikely that he regularly carried around a chemist’s pestle, though I suppose it is possible he had carried one on that fateful day. In any case, with no further evidence, the Police could not hold Stone for questioning, and the lead went cold.

    The murder of Elizabeth Camp was never solved, and is unlikely ever to be solved. It is one of the few railway murder investigations to end in this way, given that railways, especially in London, are public places. The line from Hounslow was not short of stations, and given the short time available between stops, the complete lack of witnesses seems almost inconceivable.

    If you are interested, it is worth reading the British Transport Police article on the matter, which can be found here. Greater detail can be found in the book Blood on the Tracks: A History of Railway Crime in Britain by David Brandon and Alan Brooke.

    August 21, 2018
    Blood, Britain, British Transport Police, Compartment, Drama, Hounslow, London, LSWR, Murder, Mystery, Police, Putney, Railway, Steam, Train, Unsolved, Victorian, Walworth, Wandsworth, Waterloo, Witness

  • Why I Think HS2 Is A Good Thing

    HS2 is perhaps the most controversial railway in the UK, despite it not yet existing. While there are some legitimate arguments against the project, overall I think that Europe’s newest high speed line will be a good thing, and I hope you, dear reader, will be satisfied with my explanation of this stance, following a run through of arguments against, starting with…

    WE DON’T NEED IT

    Yes, we do. Since 1997, passenger numbers have more than doubled on the National Rail network. The West Coast Main Line, between Rugby and London Euston, is the busiest mixed-use railway in Europe, and, without separating the faster trains from the mix, overcrowded misery for those using it will ensue. That is without considering the congestion and environmental problems of people switching to road transport.

    You could perhaps argue that with the rise of video conferencing and other tools allowing for people to work from home, there is no need to expand transport capacity any further. I would counter that by pointing out that demand for rail travel continues to increase in the North, and that the poor rail service in the South is leading to people losing faith in the railways. We must improve things on the railways, or people will go elsewhere.

    If we (and by we I mean the British) fail to invest in our railway, then not only is inconvenience caused but safety is reduced by people travelling on the roads. In the past 11 years, no-one has died as a result of a train accident on the railways of Great Britain. In that time, many more will have died on the roads, though I do not have the exact figures.

    LET’S UPGRADE THE REST OF THE NETWORK

    It may surprise some readers to learn that this is already happening. Readers from Derby will not be surprised in the slightest, but right across the country, capacity and speed upgrades are being undertaken, and unfortunately are failing to keep pace with demand. Electrification work has also taken place both on the Great Western Main Line and on the Midland Main Line, with varying degrees of success, but with a great deal of cost. Another innovation of recent times is digital signalling technology, that reduces the personnel required to signal trains and (at least in theory) increases the reliability of the network.

    All this upgrading is entirely welcomed by me, but as I understand it, it does cause a number of problems. Overrunning engineering works have caused delays in the past, particularly a few Christmases ago, and look likely to continue to do so. One of the major causes of the present Northern timetable chaos is the late running of the Bolton line electrification, so many of the electric trains Northern have cannot be used, and the diesel trains used instead cannot be used where they are supposed to.

    The point is that although spending money on the conventional network has its merits, it causes disruption to passengers, which never goes down well, and costs a great deal for what are often marginal gains.

    IT WILL RUIN THE COUNTRYSIDE

    This argument has rather more merit to it, considering that the new line will cut through the green and pleasant land which is England, of which I am a fan. One must, however, note the recent announcement by HS2 of a “green corridor” along Phase One of the route, with, among other things, 7 million new trees and shrubs. For particulars, I would use the link here. I would also point to the only High-Speed line currently in the UK, HS1, in Kent, which has managed to minimise its environmental impact through, among other things, moving the soil of ancient forests, to transplant new trees into.

    One must also remember that motorways, road’s equivalent to a high-speed railway, are far wider and the emissions are also far more of an air quality problem than the railway would be.

    PEOPLE WILL BE DISPLACED

    This is true. Those that live on the actual route have been offered compensation, but those that live near it will have to endure the construction traffic for up to a decade. The construction work at Euston will be particularly disruptive, and go on for much longer than work on each phase of the route. I admit that this will not be a great thing for those affected, and that the railway will do little to help local communities, except perhaps providing work for local contractors.

    However, this argument somewhat misses the point. During the construction of the major railways into London, whole streets were destroyed, whole suburbs displaced, and the character of the villages surrounding London completely changed. However, I suspect that no-one in our modern times would argue that connecting the country was therefore a bad idea and should never have happened.

    IT WILL COST TOO MUCH

    Yes, the cost of several tens of billions is very large, especially in an era when the emergency services are under pressure, as are schools, libraries and other public services are under threat.

    However, building this high-speed railway will provide thousands of jobs for the next few decades, as well as the economic benefit of rapid travel between many of the UK’s major conurbations. Some may argue that business travellers won’t use a faster service, and will opt for the cheap-but-cheerful option of the conventional train. I urge these people to look at Birmingham New Street, and compare the passengers of the slow London North Western Railway service to those on Virgin’s Pendolinos – the suits opt for the quicker train.

    IT WILL ONLY SERVE LONDON AND BIRMINGHAM

    On the first count this is patently not true – Phase 2 of the line will serve Manchester, Leeds, Sheffield, Crewe, and a whole host of other places in the North. Furthermore, with connections to the conventional railway at Sheffield and Crewe, trains from HS2 will also serve destinations further North still, including those in Scotland, making the whole journey faster.

    On the second count, even if it was just a line between London and Birmingham, this would still help people in the North. How, you ask? Well, with the fast trains from Birmingham removed from the busy section of line south of Rugby, there is now more room for trains from the North, which means more services for Manchester, Liverpool, and many other places on the West Coast Main Line.

    In Conclusion

    Dear reader, I believe it is in the national interest to build this railway line. Even if you do not accept my rebuttal of the various points listed above, one must admit that this is a chance to show the world the very best of British engineering. For too long, we have been seen as the sick man of Europe, with no major high-speed railway of our own. Here, an opportunity presents itself, not just to rectify this shortcoming, but also to build the best railway in the world.

    Many of the problems of conventional railways will be eliminated. Modern in-cab signalling will mean far more regular trains, and the new trains will be at least 200 m long, so plenty of room for everyone. Many will also be doubled to 400 m long, by coupling the trains together. Each station is being designed with care and attention, to make them pleasant places to be, not just a place to get on a train.

    Alas, this is probably getting a little long at this point, so with that I shall wish you an excellent day, and ask you to pass this on if you know anyone who might be interested.

    August 15, 2018
    Birmingham, Britain, British, Controversy, Engineering, Future, Green, High Speed, HS1, HS2, Leeds, London, Manchester, Rail, Railways, Transport, Upgrade

  • Why I don’t have a smartphone

    Some of you, who perhaps know me better, will know of my stubborn refusal to own or even to contemplate owning a smartphone. Why is this? Well, dear reader, let me explain my reasons, starting with:

    1. People lived for millennia without the use of them, and many seemed to get on just fine.

    There seems to be an insistence that the smartphone is an essential of modern life, as if, at the drop of a hat, if one did not own one, that one would simply expire. This is quite obviously not true. To survive, you need water, food, and shelter, things which our modern civilisation provides in abundance.

    Ah yes, you may say, but I need to get around. To this I would respond that while Google Maps and the like are extremely useful for navigation, it is still possible to get around without them. For now, public transport does not require the use of a smartphone, tickets still come in card form, and despite much innovation in car navigation, road signs remain a fixture.

    True, smartphones may have made the dissemination of information much easier. News travels around the world far faster than ever. But is this a good thing? The pressure on journalists now is not to get the story as truthful as possible, but to get it out before everyone else, thus ensuring more clicks and more advertising revenue. I suggest you make up your own mind.

    1. I would really rather you just talked to me

    Call me old fashioned, but to me, the easiest way to get something across is to actually speak to someone. Texts, calls and so on fall rather short, at least in my view. It strikes me as particularly odd that even within the same house, people will text each other rather than just walking over and talking. Maybe this is bad for society. Not being a sociologist, I have no idea.

    1. It’s something else to charge

    One unfortunate accident of the smartphone revolution is the far shorter battery life, compared to what we had previously. Smartphones, at least those that actually get used, need to be plugged in at least every night, if not more often.

    Leaving aside my laziness for the moment, this isn’t great for the environment, as the energy use is far greater, and it has to come from somewhere. True, much of our electricity now comes from renewable or low carbon sources, and it’s heartening to see coal power stations being decommissioned, but the fact remains that for most people more energy use = more carbon emissions.

    1. Cost

    Perhaps I’m a cheapskate, but really, do I want to be paying for data, and all the rest of it? Not to mention the cost of the actual device, which, although coming down all the time (thanks capitalism!) are still not negligible. I’m cheap, at least when buying for myself, and if I don’t need to spend money, I generally don’t.

    But there is another element to cost. The cost, not to me, or to the network, but to the environment as a whole. I’ve already gone over the energy costs for the use of the thing, but I’ve so far not mentioned the energy you need to construct these things, or the labour involved. I can assure you I am not about to launch into a plea for the workers of the third world, despite the problems there, because that problem is already well known and well documented.

    No, instead I want to talk about materials. You see, in order to make a complicated electronic device like a smartphone, one needs a huge number of different materials, from almost all categories, including ceramics, polymers and metals. While polymers and ceramics (the plastic case and the glass screen) are fairly easy to come by, the difficulty comes in the metals department. Metals such as Cobalt, are considered critical materials, that is, they are only found in certain countries, and are difficult to come by. One of the countries that Cobalt is found in is the (not at all) Democratic Republic of the Congo, where miners face very demanding conditions.

    But before this post turns into a sob story, let us instead focus on the transport aspects. All these materials, coming from many countries around the world, have to be transported, again incurring an energy cost, and more carbon emissions. They then have to be assembled, and the finished product shipped again to where it’s sold.

    I suppose, however, this point is more of an argument against consumerism than smartphones in general, so I shall stop things there.

    1. I actually think the world is quite interesting

    By looking down at their phones, I do fear smartphone people are missing out somewhat. We live in a beautiful world, full of curious things. Even in cities, where there are few natural wonders, one can notice the care with which things are designed, the thought and the effort of thousands to make the built environment happen. Cars driving past reveal the talents of mechanical engineers, aerodynamicists, and of countless skilled hands. Railways go on, with all the certainty and regularity that the permanent way demands.

    Further out, there are great hills, valleys and rivers. The landscape of England, and of the UK at large, is beautiful. We are lucky to be in Blake’s green and pleasant land. Many would downplay this, pointing to extravagant spots in faraway places, but few these days take the time to appreciate what we already have.

    That said, I’m sure Angry Birds has its charm.

    1. Fragility

    I will admit, not owning one, I cannot say this with much conviction, but, judging by the number of cracked screens I have seen, smartphones seem rather fragile. One could counter this by pointing out that if handled with care, one will not have a problem. In turn, I would counter that by saying that anything you carry about your person regularly that needs to be treated with care all of the time is rather a drag. You don’t see people drop their keys and the key immediately shatter and become difficult to use, or their wallet; tickets do not suddenly cease to function when they fall out of your pocket.

    I may also argue that the smartphone revolution is making people more fragile. Some, upon discovering that their beloved device has been left by accident at home, seem to be completely lost. The attitude of “there’s an app for that” has unfortunately created people who don’t seem to be able to cope on their own in the real world. Alas, I am probably getting ahead of myself here.

    That brings me to the end of my reasoning, though I of course will remember something else I should have written instead at some point in the next week. If you, perchance, enjoyed this, you could share it with someone else, and, as if to rub in the irony, even do it on a smartphone. I use a laptop personally, but it is up to you.

    August 9, 2018

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