What is everyone talking about this week: We know how to fix Britain's trains
One-time symbols of industrial advance have become a laughing stock, plagued by cancellations and unable to withstand any weather that deviates from the norm. Plus, a parliamentary heist and chiropteran ironies.
I like to think that I demand little in life for health and happiness besides a working fireplace, access to Spotify Premium and a functional railway system. Yet like all human beings, I have my gripes. Three things inspire opprobrium: British Airways; the website via which our office is forced to reserve a desk; and Southern Rail. Of the three, the latter is the worst, by the kind of country mile that it seems unable to journey through without breaking down.
UK trains, once a symbol of industrial advance, have become a laughing stock. At best, they are slow and the price of tickets ludicrously expensive. At worst, they are the bane of Britain, costing £1.5 billion in lost productivity each year. South-East England, our hottest region, is worst hit, with derailments and faltering infrastructure causing entire lines to shut down. Compensation via the Delay Repay scheme now surpasses £150 million per annum.
Patience is wearing thin — particularly for those in commuter towns who are also reliant on cars and forced to contend with sky-high parking costs up to five days a week (most station car parks now charge some £10 a day). The Telegraph revealed in July that passengers had lost at least 42 million hours to delays and cancellations since last summer, a figure no doubt matched by the hours spent lamenting the problem. Trains are both a political lightning rod (Labour and the Green Party want to renationalise our railways) and a flashpoint at dinner parties. If all roads lead to Rome, all railroads must lead to anger-management classes.
Successive governments have promised track upgrades and a ‘streamlining’ of ticket prices; yet Labour’s strategy — to bring the latter down and funnel all projects through a single channel — is managerial, at best. It will take more than one term in office to see through any pledges. To move past such sclerosis, the debate ought to move to design. Most of our carriers have a monopoly on the line that they serve. Using an Open Access system to spur competition — and build better trains — is the fastest way to bring down prices. The Government should also make track upgrades a national priority, diverting public money currently being spent elsewhere. Trust me: it’s better spent here.
In the meantime, one could do worse than to take a leaf out of Stop! That! Train!, the cinematic event du jour co-produced by RuPaul Charles (creator of RuPaul’s Drag Race). The film unfolds within a ‘Glamazonian Express’ train hurtling towards a ‘stormaganza’, with five drag queens manning the convoy. It is a masterclass in glamour and absurdity. We already have the latter; why not both?
Sticky fingers
The Houses of Parliament have long played muse to artists, but their own collection of works is dwindling due to sticky fingers — allegedly.
More than 65 works of art have been ‘misplaced’ from the Houses of Parliament since 2024, according to reports — including a portrait of Benjamin Disraeli and a 19th-century engraving print of William Wilberforce. This is not unusual: a freedom of information request issued by The Times in 2018 found more than 220 artworks had been lost in the parliamentary post, labelled ‘missing’ on the internal system. Politicians? Nicking stuff? Well, I never!
Neither is it unusual for these to magically reappear. As my late grandfather, a man of disorderly ways, often said of misplaced bills and invoices: ‘It’ll turn up.’ We must continue to hope ‘it’ does: the parliamentary collection is said to be worth more than £10 million. Nothing to be sniffed at, although mere pennies besides the collections housed at various members’ clubs (The George in Mayfair owns several works by David Hockney), and where sticky fingers have allegedly pocketed stuff every now and again.
Architectural ironies
A Jacobethan Revival House used in the 'Batman' films is under threat.
An urgent repair order was issued last month to the proprietor of Mentmore Towers, a Grade I-listed building in Buckinghamshire that was once home to the Rothschild family. The home is uninhabited and the roof deteriorating.
Owned since 1999 by property developer Simon Halabi (net worth: £2 billion in 2008), plans to build a hotel and conference centre on site never materialised and the country club and golf course that used to be on the site closed in 2015. The house is of the utmost significance, being the principle extant work of Joseph Paxton (designer of the Crystal Palace) and arguably the pinnacle of Jacobethan Revival style in England. It could be the next Wentworth Woodhouse. Why isn’t it?
From this debacle, however, one of the funnier architectural ironies of 2026 has arisen. Mentmore Towers was used as the location of Wayne Manor in Christopher Nolan’s Batman Begins from 2005; bat droppings were identified by Historic England during its site inspection, prompting the issue of a compulsory bat survey.
You reap what you sow.
This feature originally appeared in the September 2, 2026, issue of Country Life. Click here for more information on how to subscribe.
