Thoughtful Trainlines

Our government is determined to reduce expenditure - even to the extent of degrading the fabric of society - but perhaps it should take note of Edmund Burke's observation, made around 250 years ago, that "Mere parsimony is not economy. Expense, and great expense, may be an essential part in true economy".

Perhaps it did take Burke's advice into account when it made the decision to spend an estimated £52 billion of our money on a new, high-speed railway line (trains not included) which will connect a few cities that are already well served by railway lines. The government argues that it would be good for economic growth which, on current trend, means the rich will get richer while the bulk of the population will not.

Railways are an efficient way of connecting hubs but back in 1962 a lot of the minor routes were closed on the grounds of economy. Some hubs, it seems, are more valuable than others and this is one of the reasons why we are left with a divided Britain - part of which is connected by rail and part of which is not. I have become familiar with the former by use of trains and with the latter by use of a camper-van. As a way of exploring the lesser-frequented parts of the countryside a camper-van is ideal: it provides transport and accommodation in places where both are hard to come by. Last week we took ours down one of the quiet green valleys of mid-Wales.

We left the trunk road and followed a minor one (built on top of the former railway line) to Llanidloes where the magnificent but now redundant station building once served as the main office of the Cambrian Railway Company. From there a deserted country lane - an ancient route lined with hedgerows bursting with foliage and colourful blooms - led us to a farm field given over to camper-vans. We were the only visitors. "I think everyone's gone abroad" said the farmer's wife as we exchanged pleasantries about the fine weather and she told me that she would be driving a tractor for the next few days so as to get the harvest in. Later, after putting a match to the BBQ, fixing cocktails and settling down to watch the wild creatures scamper about while the sun sank slowly through the trees, I felt a pang of commiseration for the farmer's wife - but mostly satisfaction at having rented such a perfectly bucolic pitch for a very modest fee.

Over much of Britain the camper-van takes us through seemingly vast areas of uninhabited countryside to places like this where, apart from a farm or two, there are no buildings to be seen. Yet our towns and cities are overcrowded: there is a shortage of housing; there is not enough land to build on; the roads are jammed with traffic; commuter trains are packed and people's lives are stressed. Do we really live on an over-crowded island, or is it simply a case of uneven distribution?

After a peaceful night's sleep we walked into the attractive little town of Llanidloes where evidence of prosperity was abundant. High Street banks, still functioning, were well represented; not one of the many pubs had shut up shop; market stalls were setting up as they had done for hundreds of years, local produce was on sale and posh English accents could be heard amongst the Welsh. This town has a vibrancy that many others dream of. Could we find a way to share it around?

The Victorians built the original railway network in order to move goods and maximise profit: the subsequent, unforeseen benefits of social mobility and national-cohesion were not part of their plan. But if we are to spend billions of taxpayers' pounds on railways then it should not be primarily for the benefit of 'business'. For that kind of money we could build a more extensive, more effective rail network to re-connect the whole nation.