Iona, who is as surprised as I am by it, informs me that:
- there is a railcard valid for one-third discount on all off-peak travel in the London area;
- which is defined so broadly as to encompass Exeter, Oxford, Cambridge and Dover;
- and, most critically, isn’t restricted to students or those under 25.
The Network Railcard; £25 per year, valid for a third discount on all off-peak trains, pays for itself with five day returns to London. One card is valid for the holder and three other adults travelling with them.
It is, to put it mildly, very underadvertised. Even knowing what I was looking for it took me a while to find out how to register…
Another post-from-the-train, this time coming into Dundee en route to Aberdeen. Iona, sitting next to me, is amazed that Scotland is actually picturesque in the sunlight, and swears no-one ever told her this during her six previous visits to the country.
This is possibly the most convoluted journey I have taken in the UK. Oxford to Birmingham to Liverpool, rest, Liverpool to Manchester to Edinburgh, rest, Edinburgh to Aberdeen to Lerwick, finally arrive on Sunday after setting off on Thursday.
The next leg is either going to be delightfully enjoyable or hideously unpleasant. Twelve hours in the North Sea…
I am, as I type, rolling over the viaduct in Durham (we’re not stopping, the Cathedral just flashed by) and it struck me that it’s been just over ten years since I started taking the East Coast line regularly, when I first went down for an open day at… York, it must have been? Lot of change since then, not least of which is that I am wearing a suit – I’m on my way to a wedding – and connected to the internet on a netbook substantially more useful than any PC I had access to at the time. I might just have had mild terror at the idea of paying £110 for a weekend return ticket back then – and been equally surprised at just whose wedding I’d be coming back home for.
The line is the same, but the trains are refurbished; this is their third owner in that time, having gone from GNER to National Rail to the magnificently dully-named East Coast. Thinking about it, it’s probably their second stint in public ownership – some of the rolling stock here must be a good twenty years old, pre-privatisation. The spirit of British Rail manages to live on in the new nationalisation; even the hasty repainting of the carriages seems to have been done shoddily. (I have yet to test the quality of the sandwiches.)
Still, it’s fun. In the late eighties, when I first remember taking trains – very rarely – it was an exciting adventure because, well, it was a train, and I was six. In 2000, when I started taking long-haul trains regularly, it was exciting because there was a new life ahead, and it was all bound up with that. (“The noblest prospect”, etc.) In 2010, it’s almost mundane, but there continues to be a small thrill – there’s still that faint sense of wonder that I can amble up to the station, buy a cup of coffee, wave some paper, take my seat, settle down, and get whisked to the other end of the country, quietly and cleanly and unobtrusively. No security checks, none of the nonsense that makes flying unpleasant, just the enjoyment of being taken somewhere, the scenery flicking past the windows, and not having to worry about how.