PULLMAN HAD SUCCESS ON A PLATE BUT CUTBACKS MEAN IT’S NOW COLD COMFORT F0R DINERS

JRICHARD often writes here, rather glumly, that “nothing works any more”. I know what he means and I suspect you do too, whether we are talking potholes, pollution or pusillanimous politicians.

But it’s not just about stuff “not working”. It’s about stuff we used to take for granted disappearing. Like easy, automatic access to an NHS dentist. Or same-day appointments with your GP (although I must say our local surgery bucks that trend: doctors and receptionists work tirelessly to meet demand. Credit where it’s due).

And if this is true of socalled core services, it’s equally so at what I might call the “comfort front”. Indulgences we all used to enjoy from time to time which are now withering and dying in our brave new oh-sopractical bottom-line world.

The best example I can think of is the traditional train dining car. Remember them? A real treat on a long journey. One of the best known and best loved was on the Paddington to Plymouth service. Once a twice-daily offering, lunch or dinner, the justly-famed Pullman coach is now virtually extinct. Just one service a day, on the 19.04 (actually now inexplicably moved forward to the way too-early 18.04). SUCH a shame. Sometimes Richard and I would abjure the M4/A303/M5 slog down to our beloved Cornwall and go by Great Western Railway instead. We’d book a table in the dining car. Such luxury! White damask cloth; silver service; delicate, delicious dishes served by staff with real pride in their profession and its unusual setting.

Gorgeous scenery flashing by the window as you sipped a perfectly-chilled Sancerre and waited for those first glimpses of the sea to appear around Exmouth. So romantic. So stylish. And not that expensive. Not much more than a decent pub lunch. Now, with just one dining car available, prices have skyrocketed. Supply and demand.

The service is much more basic now. The carriage itself isn’t particularly distinctive. We’ve almost completely lost something special. We’ve certainly lost lunch on the train to Penzance. That definitely doesn’t work any more. More’s the pity.