Regular train passenger and self-proclaimed ‘blogger of the people’ Ray Didcot has stunned rail bosses and passengers alike by declaring the new GWR rolling stock ‘surprisingly unshit’. Didcot, whose usually only travels within the South East, recently had to travel to Wales to attend a conference on whelk sorting. As his latest blog post says:
“I arrived at Paddington with all the enthusiasm of a hog at an abattoir. I knew the train was a new one, but I expected it to be like the new Thameslink- a shipping container on wheels with a seat specially engineered to give you raging haemorrhoids within a mere 20 minute journey.
“However, as I boarded the new Class 800 Intercity Express, I noticed with amazement the premium look of the seating, the fold-down tables (sans migraine-inducing screech), the little pully-outy bit for laptops, and the electronic reservations screens. I assumed there had been some kind of mistake and that I had inadvertently wandered into 1st class, or the villain’s lair on the set of a new Bond movie.
“When I sat down I was confronted with a choice of 2 coat hooks, each window had a sun blind, and each seat – EACH FUCKING SEAT – had a plug socket. About an hour into the journey a smiling attendant sold me a reasonably priced coffee that didn’t taste of month-old cesswater, and a cheese and pickle sandwich that unusually tasted of both cheese, and pickle.
“Here… in Britain… a train that is unshit enough to be worthy of one of the less frequently visited bits of France or Germany! Well I never…!”
The post continues at some length extolling the virtues of the new GWR trains, and features a number of graphs comparing them with the most popular 15 types of continental rolling stock. However, the blog ends on a sombre note:
“As we got to Newport, a fellow passenger began asking people if they knew who the owner of the bag by the vestibule door was. ‘Christ!’, I thought, ‘Don’t be a fucking hero! It’s probably some idiot gone to buy a lager in carriage K!’ but it was too late. He raised the alarm and we spent the next 14 hours somewhere between Swansea and Newport while the rozzers attempted to disarm a badminton racket.”