I hate to point out the bleeding obvious but the following facts appeared to have escaped those responsible for the rail infrastructure of our country.
Britain is a cold, windy, and above all wet little island.
The chances, therefore, of stepping out at around 5:30 on any evening, winter or summer, and thinking ‘Oh what a lovely evening for sitting out unprotected from the elements’ are fairly small. Unless you’re a duck.
The sort of protection provided at a small suburban station (say, Kew Bridge, for sake of argument) consists of a couple of things the size and shape of a bus shelter, suitable for maybe eight strangers, or at a pinch fifteen good friends intent on an orgy. Or, indeed, a goodly number of ducks.
The number of people waiting for a train this evening at Kew Bridge was more like forty or fifty, most of whom were either hunched miserably in the rain, with the rest trying unsuccessfully to huddle under one of the two bus shelter type things, without coming into contact with any strangers’ body parts.
And no ducks.
And to add insult to dampness, the trains have started running late. 15 minutes in total today. Time to start counting?