I was on a remarkably civilised train to Oxford yesterday. The same, unfortunately, cannot be said for the London Underground, which changng its mind about bits were open and shut – or perhaps the announcers just changed their minds about which parts they were gonig to tell us about. Either way, it wasn’t very helpful, especially when I had a ridiculously heavy case and was trying to negotiate a step-free (or as step-free as possible) route to Paddington.

The Paddington to Oxford train, however, was perfectly behaved, as were the passengers. It ran perfectly to time, had plenty of space for luggage and lots of free seats, and very helpful guards. I’d comment on the scenery and sunlight forming beautiful pictures, because I’m sure they must have been, but I was too busy curled up in my seat doing cross stitch. Two rows further down, an elderly couple were completing a crossword together. Opposite me, a girl was reading the complete works of Jane Austen.

One person had music playing through their headphones, but none of us seemed to mind, given it was gentle classical music (not something I could identify, though that doesn’t narrow it down much).

I wish more train journeys were like that.