In her weekly digested column, Guardian stalwart Lucy Mangan turns her razor-sharp wit to the collective British fantasy: the concept of a perfect train journey. It’s a vision so pure, so unattainable, it might as well be a mirage on the tracks.
Mangan paints a picture of this transport utopia. Imagine a carriage where the sacred silence of the Quiet Zone is actually respected. A place where the only soundtrack is the gentle hum of the engine, not the tinny blast of a stranger’s phone conversation or the relentless chatter of a loudspeaker call.
This idyllic commute, she muses, would be a haven of civility. It would be a journey free from the oppressive heat of broken air conditioning and the awkward, intimate proximity forced upon strangers. It’s a dream of punctuality, cleanliness, and personal space—a stark contrast to the reality frequent travellers know so well.
With her trademark humour, Mangan doesn’t just describe the dream; she lampoons the nightly news narratives we’re all subjected to. She offers a refreshingly sardonic take on the week’s events, providing a much-needed catharsis for readers overwhelmed by the relentless news cycle.
Her digest is more than just a summary; it’s a cultural commentary. It’s for anyone who has ever rolled their eyes at a public nuisance or felt a surge of impotent rage at a delayed service. Mangan articulates the quiet frustrations of modern British life, transforming them into something we can finally laugh about.
