pumpkinstrokemarrow

And then there is the dripped drivel through the loudspeakers in trains, which the operators assure us is for our own safety and is in any case forced on them by regulations from the European Commission for Diverse Equality. The one that seems particularly inane - although it does prove that their IT system is car sensitive - is the one which tells you that you are sitting in car 3 (or whatever) of this 8 car train. By way of getting back at them I try to devise more interesting messages for them. Perhaps I will send the better ones in to their customer suggestion scheme. So how about 'You are sitting in car 3 of this 8 car train. Car 2 is the one behind you, looking towards the direction of travel and car 4 is the one in front of you, against the direction of travel'. Or 'You might like to know that this car is carrying 74.2 customers of the maximum of 85 full size equivalents permitted by the European Commission for Customer Carriage'. Or 'Will you please make sure that you have fastened your shoe laces before attempting to leave the train. Southwest trains can take no responsibility for any accident that might result from any failure so to do'.

But despite all this technology, yesterday evening I find myself waiting for half an hour after the due time on the platform at Earlsfield, temperature well below freezing, with no more information than 'train delayed' on the whizzy electronic display. One shivers and wonders whether nipping down to the 'Halfway House' for a pick-me-up is a good idea. Then the Epsom train comes along without any warning. So it wouldn't have been. Maybe they should transfer some of the team from the in-car announcement project to the on-platform announcement project.

But there was diversion to hand on the train. Sitting next to me was a young man who appeared to be a bit lost, clutching a leaflet about suburban railways with markings somewhere in southwest London and a door key (the credit card variety), together with a small cardboard slip with the room number, from a Holiday Inn Express, in the name of Mr and Mrs Ahmed Al-eiza or some such. The problem was that he had not got a clue which Holiday Inn Express it was. He spoke decent English and did not appear to be drunk. He denied having a wife whom he could phone up and ask where she was. Helpful passengers, most of whom were happy to be diverted, pondered about where there might be Holiday Inns in the area. Certainly no where near where the train was going. Sandown Park near Esher came to mind. Then Colliers Wood, then Sutton, then Chessington World of Adventure. I try to phone the telephone number of the small cardboard slip and get through to central booking control. At least they don't tell me that they can't possibly talk to me because of the Data Protection Act. But they don't seem to be able to trace the registration. They pass me onto another operator and I start again. Still no luck. Maybe I should not have omitted the hyphen when spelling his name out. Young man goes as if to get off so I give up. But he is restrained on the grounds that Stoneleigh in the middle of the night is probably a worse option than Epsom. Then someone has the bright idea that maybe we should take a peek at his train ticket, which turns out to be for Wandsworth. Ah ha says the someone. I think there is a Holiday Inn Express at Wandsworth. He has money so lets send him back to Clapham Junction to get a cab. Which we do, learning on the way that he is fresh off a plane from Los Angeles and is visiting the International School - which I learn this morning is at Cobham and nowhere near Wandsworth. But the sympathy level goes up many notches. Lots of wise nodding about how jet lag can fry the brain. Less talk about what on earth is the twat up to.

This morning I thought that maybe going to the Chessington World of Adventure Holiday Inn might have been a better bet. We knew there was one there, and once there no doubt he would have been processed. If necessary, into a bed there.

Presumably the almost complete lack of helpful information on the card board slip was a security measure. No-one happening to find the thing in the street would be able to abuse it. Was that what was happening here? An abuse attempt?

And I was also diverted by the very English compromise whereby the BA cabin crew strike is called off by a judge on the grounds of some minor irregularity in the striking voting procedure. That way the strike is off and so management are happy and the union don't have to do a humiliating climb down. Was the judge acting under instructions from No. 10? Whatever, I imagine that a fair bit of damage has been done to the BA operation. Will it prove to have been another nail in the coffin or will they escape for a few more years?