[T]he train system is so chronic now, that any journey you undertake by train in Britain is identical to the one taken by Omar Sharif in Doctor Zhivago; that's what it's like - the same drama and misery. Ancient, knackered rolling-stock limping painfully across the land, shuddering to a halt for no apparent reason, with the lights flickering on and off; everyone running up and down - 'What's going on? What's up ahead? I don't know... Is it Rod Steiger with the White Guard?' - desperate women in headscarves running alongside the carriages, throwing their babies into the train, shouting 'I'LL NEVER SEE PURLEY OAKS, BUT MY CHILD MIGHT!'