Controversial. Especially having slogged to and from Stockport for what seemed like half my life for half my salary in the nineties.
And given that they nearly put out of business their Welsh rivals (who run a lovely old-fashioned service at sadly entirely inapproapriate times - due to Virgin hogging the line).
However, this week, as an effectively retired bum, I was able to get from deepest Shropshire to London and back for 15 squid.
And sit in a Quiet zone, sans mobile fucking phones, sans shaken-up kaleidoscope, i-podge, jangly, tin-wank dance tunes, and sans feral tykes stretching embarrassed slummy-mummies to their limit. Indeed I travelled home on Friday in a carriage entirely my own. Which is frankly how I like the world.
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