Bonhomie

          Two days after I had bought a pair of return tickets for a long-distance train journey, the government announced (in yet another obvious attempt to distract attention from its incompetence and lack of moral rectitude) that such tickets would be offered at half-price for the next month! Since the train companies are subsidising the sale, I am minded to cancel my booking and start again, though it’s probably best to wait until the stampede is over.

          I suspect the train companies have had their arms twisted in this instance. Nevertheless, there is something else going on, insofar as they seem lately to have adopted a general ‘be nice to passengers’ (or should that be ‘customers’?) policy. I offer as evidence my experience with three different operators within the last ten days. The services have been punctual, the carriages and toilets clean and the employees, without exception, good-natured, patient, polite and, sometimes, funny. Perhaps it’s because train operators put their prices up in March and are now on a damage-limitation campaign to prove that riding with them is a pleasurable experience, regardless of cost. If this is the case, their employees have certainly been sent to a good charm-school. Boarding one train a little early, I had to step aside for the cleaner – or ‘Train Presentation Team Member’, according to her tabard – to clean the table with an anti-bacterial wipe, which she did with an enthusiastic flourish, followed by a smiled invitation for me to take my seat. On another journey, diverted by engineering works, the guard/conductor/ticket collector/train manager or whatever his title is, explained the diversion good-humouredly to every passenger that needed reassurance. It was as if he loved and treasured us all.

          But this outbreak of joy may be down to more than company policy. It could have something to do with the fact that this past week has seen warm, Spring-like weather arrive in time for the Easter holidays, a happy coincidence that more than doubles the enjoyment value of both – the natural event and its religious counterpart. The resulting feel-good factor is strong enough to have percolated down to those who are obliged, like the employees of train companies, to work through the holidays. Even though I am presently in London, the joyful signs of nature’s rejuvenation are never far from the doorstep. Every little patch of greenery is glowing with vigour, every blossom is in its prime and every determined sun-worshipper has bared their arms and legs and is slapping along the pavements in flip-flops en route to who-knows-where, but not the office.

          The last of my train journeys took me from London to St. Leonard’s, to visit my brother. We revelled in a classic British seaside experience – a walk along the promenade in the sunshine and lunch at a café right on the beach, where the menu boasted locally caught fish and locally made cider. It felt too good to be true. All right, the background music was a bit iffy, but it’s early in the season and they have time to perfect that. Oddly, the one thing missing was the tourist throng. Come to think of it, there were only three of us on the train from London and the news is full of congestion at the airports, so I should not have been surprised. Smug, yes. Surprised, no.

          The journey back was just as relaxed – apart from a moment of anxiety brought about by the inspector’s troubled look as he scanned my ticket. He shook his head, almost imperceptibly, then settled himself down into the seat opposite to explain that my ticket was valid only for a particular train, which was not this one. “I suppose you didn’t read the small print,” he said, “people often don’t”. And with that gentle caution and in the new-found spirit of being nice to customers, he smiled, winked and let me off scot-free.