World Class? No Chance (2)

Back in May, I posted on the shortcomings of Manchester Airport, supposedly owner of the title “Best UK Airport”. At that point, I reckoned that it would be difficult to challenge the combination of retail experience overkill, lack of fitness for purpose and general ineptitude thus offered. But the smaller and supposedly leaner and fitter operation at Liverpool has taken up the challenge.

Flying in yesterday afternoon from Madrid’s Terminal 1 – that’s the oldest part of Barajas airport, but all the kit works – the feeling that this was not going to be the happiest of terminal transits started as the aircraft, instead of turning right onto the apron at the east side of the terminal building used exclusively by EasyJet, carried straight on, and on to a stand needing a bus transfer.

Two modern Cobus shuttle vehicles awaited disembarking passengers. What could go wrong? Well, after over 80 bodies crammed on to the first bus, what was already wrong became apparent: the vehicle had been sent out with a soft tyre, which promptly went flat under load. A substitute bus was provided, but had rather less standing space. A tube-style crush ensued.

It got worse: the queuing space available for punters waiting at the “UK Border” sign wasn’t enough for just 130 bodies. So many passengers had to queue outside for a couple of minutes. Fortunately it was merely damp and windy. The time taken to process a flight of almost all EU citizens was around quarter of an hour, and to what point? We’d all shown our passports in Madrid already.

Then some bright spark thought it A Good Idea to have anyone passing through the Customs “green channel” run the gauntlet of a sniffer dog and its humourless handler. Again, to what point? We all got security scanned before boarding. The only thing with the same danger level as a Class A drug likely to be inbound from Madrid would be a bottle of Chinchon from the airport duty free.

But the icing on the cake came outside the terminal. Liverpool Airport does not have a rail link, but there are frequent bus services to nearby South Parkway station, from where there are direct trains to Manchester, Sheffield, Birmingham, Leeds, and, yes, Crewe. So I headed for the bus stand that was clearly marked “Rail Link”, only to see no sign of the timetable for the direct rail link bus (Service 501).

And then a 501 drove past without stopping. The duty Arriva bod explained “it can’t use this stand, it’s a bendy bus, it’s too long, so it has to use Stand 1”. Then put that information somewhere on Stand 4, which you marked “Rail Link”. And no, I don’t care if it’s Arriva’s fault, or Merseytravel’s, or the Airport’s. This is a basic error of clown proportions.

Fortunately I caught my train (just). But sort yourselves out. It’s not good enough.

Phil Space On HS2

It started so promisingly: Daily Mail hack Michael Hanlon looked at the fall-out from the horrific accident on the M5 near Taunton last Friday and could only conclude that the idea of raising the motorway speed limit to 80mph was thereby shown to be less than A Good Idea. Sadly, any credibility Hanlon had in store was then sprayed up the wall yesterday with an appallingly uninformed piece on HS2.

Because the attack, “We must slow down this high speed rail project”, is mere formulaic knocking copy filled with misinformation. Hanlon demonstrates this at the outset when he tells that HS2’s time saving of 23 minutes for London to Birmingham is “One and a half billion pounds a minute”. But the cost he used (£32 billion) is for the whole “Y network” including Manchester, Sheffield and Leeds.

Moreover, his existing London to Birmingham fastest time of 72 minutes does not exist: the only train scheduled to do the journey this quickly runs the other way, from Birmingham to London (Hanlon’s “fastest trains” [plural] characterisation is therefore wrong; a more typical fastest time is 82 minutes). And to this has to be added a little journalistic exaggeration.

“Trains to Devon and Cornwall dawdle along at velocities that would embarrass I K Brunel” pontificates Hanlon, who, had he bothered to inspect the National Rail journey planner, would have seen that the fastest trains [plural] from London to Plymouth average a shade over 75mph, a speed that Brunel would have been more than happy merely to achieve momentarily.

But, as the man said, there’s more: “Of course, the network really needs to be taken back into public hands” tells Hanlon, apparently unaware that the network, overseen as it is by Network Rail, is already in public hands. And as for “New signalling and some line upgrades would mean that many services currently restricted to 125mph could run at 140mph or more”, this too is bunk.

British Rail (remember them?) concluded that the maximum permissible speed with conventional signalling was 125 – after trials of 140mph running. To go faster would need adoption of cab signalling by any train using lines supposedly upgraded, as well as an appropriate train protection system. For mixed use lines, that would mean spending serious amounts of money.

And much of the rest of Hanlon’s piece is similarly muddled, so much so that it does not need any in-depth knowledge of the rail industry to see through it. This means that any attempt to damage the case for HS2 is likely to have exactly the opposite effect. But Hanlon does concede that “I would support HS2 if ... the plan was extended to ... Northern England”. Which it already has been.

So it was hardly worth Hanlon’s while turning up, then.

Ending The Iberian Journey

Today is time to head home, to leave behind the always interesting city of Madrid, its magnificent architecture, its welcoming population, and its chirruping pedestrian crossings (no-one visiting can get that sound out of their heads after a day or two). And it’s a good opportunity to look back at the prospects for Spain and Portugal as both countries journey further into austerity.

Thus far, all that those austerity programmes have brought is cuts, lessening of demand, hiking of prices (including eye-watering VAT increases in Portugal), and the inevitable worsening of unemployment. Both countries – and, whisper it quietly, the UK too – need a strategy for growth. Because without growth, the economic situation will not markedly improve.

And growth is the issue that politicians are either ducking, or not addressing with sufficient vigour. That is true, whether the country concerned is within the Eurozone or not. So why all the hot air expended on blaming “Brussels” (so convenient to dump the blame on a city), the Germans, the French, and of course anything even remotely connected to the EU?

As with so much else, this keeps a legion of overmonied and untalented hacks in employment (I almost used the term “gainful”, but that would have been a word too far). Many of them are the equivalent of passed-over Majors, most are writing to order – that doesn’t just include the Daily Mail nowadays, sadly – and the frothing and ranting is held to sell papers.

In the face of this wave of punditry, it’s easy to lose sight of the real issue: economies around the world are doing badly, whether they are part of the EU, or not. Currency zones do not explain away the endemic problems. This much will endure, until the assembled hackery is proven as wrong as ever, and then the passed-over Majors will be nowhere to be seen.

And with that thought, this Iberian journey concludes.

Slow Death Of Casa Mingo

There are few eateries in the city of Madrid that have been frequented by young and old, rich and poor, singles, couples, families and groups over the years. One such is Casa Mingo, a short walk from the Metro at Principe Pio and a city institution, where the main item on the menu is roast chicken – just the one, mind – washed down with a bottle of the house’s own brand Asturian Cider.

It’s one of those places that seems busy, but where they always find space for you (and your party, however large). But times change: Casa Mingo has become more expensive over the years – the cider now comes in at €5.80 a bottle – and times are less good. Two years ago, the place seemed to be weathering the downturn pretty well, but tonight the place was well and truly dead.

Two tables were occupied in the whole place when I arrived, making a 50% table occupancy increase. Four waiters seemed embarrassed at having to take turns to serve a whole extra customer. The order – Pollo, Pan y Sidra – did not in any case need writing down to help later recall. Another dozen or so arrived in the next hour, but this was dire compared to a decade ago.

There was nothing wrong with the fayre – Casa Mingo chicken and cider is always good – but more potential diners are going straight home, visiting cheaper places, or eating on the go. The idea that “well, it was only Monday” doesn’t wash. This place was always at least ticking over, even on the quietest day of the week. I’d hate to see it go to the wall, but you never know.

Times are indeed hard in Madrid right now.

Mel Is Just Mad For It (Again)

What is it about the Daily Mail and its motley band of pundits? Research appears not merely optional, but is routinely bypassed. Granted, a comment piece is opinion, and one should not expect lack of bias, but making up history to suit the line being taken is unacceptable, as is the deployment of the “Littlejohn Defence” to bat away complaints. “Mad” Melanie Phillips is in that groove today.

Immigration is Mel’s subject du jour, and she starts with a false assumption: “Immigration probably sits at the very top of the public’s concerns” she asserts. Well, at least we got the “probably”, but this could have been checked by five minutes’ Googling – clearly too much for overmonied Mail hacks – to see that the latest Ipsos/Mori survey puts it third, behind the Economy and unemployment.

Never mind, and Mel doesn’t: to give a historical perspective, she dispenses with fact altogether, and tells that “1997, the incoming Blair/Brown Government (for Mel, only two men ran that Government, and one of them was Gordon Brown, so that is Very Bad Indeed) decided to lift existing immigration controls in order to create a new kind of society”. Thus she mines a seam of pure bullpucky.

Then, after pretending that inward migration to the USA somehow doesn’t happen, Mel is off again: “Labour despised the very idea of national identity based on Britain’s foundational culture, history, religion and traditions”. Mel, you’re journeying beyond Barking. But there’s more: “Anyone who objected was damned as a racist. Thus the cultural identity of Britain ... was changed without its citizens ever being consulted”.

How can I put this, Mel? My “cultural identity” has not been changed. Movements of people across borders do not change my, or anyone else’s, “cultural identity”. No Labour politician has, to my recollection, damned as a racist anyone wanting to raise the issue of immigration. There are, of course, ways in which some folks raise the issue that is racist, but that’s not the same thing.

And there is no such thing as the “cultural identity” of the nation. This is mere flannelspeak. A nation like the UK does not, cannot, and did not (even in the supposedly halcyon days when nobody had to lock their front door, and there was no elf’n’safety or human rights or anyone reading the Qur’an with intent) have a single “cultural identity”. We’ve been an amalgam of cultures since at least the Romans.

Moreover, a country can’t become “profoundly demoralised” as Mel asserts. So there cannot be, and there isn’t, a “crisis over Britain’s very soul”. Melanie Phillips might please diehard Daily Mail readers and on-line commenters starting towards frothing at the mouth and falling over backwards, but this ranting shows a disturbing lack of contact with reality, together with an exaggerated sense of self-worth.

As Ted Rogers once put it, “Take her away – she’s been rejected”.

Spanish Lack Of Practice

Those opposed to the various Occupy protests will be glad to hear the following news: the demonstration and encampment in Madrid’s Puerta del Sol is over. This imposing open space, the centre of Spain and location from where all distances out into the country are measured, has been returned to its customary status as a stop on the tourist tour, with a transport interchange beneath.

Puerta del Sol this morning

But that does not mean that all is now well in Madrid and across Spain. The number of unemployed – taken from this morning’s 20 Minutos free sheet, folks – is over 4.36 million, which is over 21% of the workforce. It is not difficult for the hacks to find those who have been trying to get into work not just for months, but for as much as three years.

And, with a General Election looming, it should come as no surprise to see that there will be more demonstrations in Puerta del Sol. This includes a countrywide “mobilisation” on November 13, despite the Board of Elections trying to ban it. It appears that a number of squares and open spaces are being targeted, because they are to be used for political rallies and party meetings.

So what are the major parties offering the electorate? Austerity, austerity and yet more austerity, although no doubt not necessarily in that order. Central Madrid may be as busy as ever, but the satellite and dormitory towns are showing signs of, well, being very, very quiet. Local shops, restaurants and other businesses are closing. Many suburbs are like ghost towns.

Some building continues – the kind of houses being built, though, may not be within the reach of any except the well off. In northern Madrid, the suburb of Pitis has been left partially built, with the development ending some hundreds of metres short of the railway and Metro interchange. The roads have been laid out, but nobody wants to build. And few want to buy what is built.

Everything costs more than it did two years ago – a single fare on the Metro has been hiked by 50%, although a 10-journey ticket is just 27% more. Eating out costs more. Wages stay the same. The protesters, when they reconvene, will be taking aim at the banks, as in the UK, but say that they will be politically non-partisan, and against an “unjust and unsustainable” economic model.

Winter is cold in Madrid. Maybe it will be the same across Spain.

Michael O’Leary’s Cash Cow Returns

Back in August 2009, I looked at the (then) latest bout of corporate mardy strop throwing by Ryanair, the Millwall of air carriers (everybody hates us and we don’t care), as the carrier pulled all its routes – except for the one to Dublin – from Manchester Airport, after management there declined to lower their handling fees, which were already no more than £3 per passenger.

And as was pointed out at the time, there was little incentive for the airport to give favourable treatment to Ryanair when there were other demands on capacity – notably from carriers like EasyJet, who continued to use Manchester. Moreover, Ryanair flew to secondary airports – Girona rather than Barcelona, for instance – making their offering less appealing.

Two years on, though, with the amount of growth wrung out of those secondary airports reaching its limits, Ryanair has come back to Manchester, putting a brave face on their volte face. Not only is the carrier returning, but will now be basing two aircraft there. Does that mean they will be getting a discount on handling fees? No. It means they need to come back to keep growing passenger numbers.

Problem is, the offering is very much as before: Girona rather than Barcelona, Orio al Serio (Bergamo) rather than Milan, Hahn rather than Frankfurt am Main, Charleroi rather than Brussels, and Beauvais (still not open 24 hours) rather than Paris CdG or Orly. But they are doing the Spanish Costas: Malaga, Alicante and Valencia all feature, as does Palma de Mallorca.

Put alongside those carriers that fly to primary airports, this looks as cheap, nasty and brazenly operator convenient as before. I’m sure that Ryanair has maintained ideological purity in pursuing its lower-cost-than-anyone-else model, but whether Manchester Airport’s customers want to play is another matter. And if they don’t, then what next for Ryanair?

After all, you can only throw a mardy strop from so many airports before the business gets wise to you. Michael O’Leary’s finest have pulled that stunt once too often, and he’s running out of road. The number of available airports willing to help drive Ryanair’s growth is running out.

The boot, right now, is well and truly on the other foot.

The Iberian Journey Changes Capitals

On a quiet and still damp morning in Lisbon, I walked across to Santa Apolónia station, wondering if I should have had another ten minutes in bed. Soon after arrival, another downpour gave the definitive answer. At least the 0730 Intercidade for Porto was ready on Track 3, and well filled for a Saturday, despite rising ticket costs. It made swift progress to the railway town of Entroncamento.

Lisbon, between the showers

There, a change of train was needed to continue the trip into Spain. A single coach railmotor rolled out of the bay platform at 0845, bound for the walled town of Elvas and then Badajoz. Service cuts could yet remove this train, the only service to cross into Spain from Elvas, a strange paradox given that in future there will be a high speed rail link between Lisbon and Madrid, and routed this way.

Lisbon seen from Parque Eduardo VII

A few minutes late – the state of the track that crosses the border is pretty poor right now – we arrived at Badajoz, an overspecified station with three platforms and lift access to two of them, but which has all of seven departures a day, six of them from the platform not needing lift access. Three of those six serve Madrid: connecting provinces to the capital is what many Spanish rail links are about.

Damp departure from Santa Apolónia

And, although there was a step change from an early 1950s railmotor – albeit refurbished a decade ago – to a new tilting train, this was still well off the electrified network, and all single track. Towns are well spaced out here – some runs between stops took a full hour – and the terrain means lots of twists, turns and rather tasty looking gradients. It’s a long journey.

Badajoz: city gate

How long? Another five and a half hours to do the 320 miles or so to Madrid, despite some good speed, and a journey ending well after dark at a characteristically chaotic Puerta de Atocha station. Fortunately, access to the Metro heading north is step free and the ticket machines work (like Barcelona, and Boris’ apparent intention, there is no manned ticket office), though ticket prices have gone up. A lot.

Old and new together at Badajoz

What did I find out on the way? There are a lot of folks sleeping under canopies and archways in Lisbon – you see that by being out and about early. Lots are taking the Intercity train. Few are using the link into Spain, and not many boarded the afternoon train from Badajoz to Madrid. But the Spanish capital is as busy as ever, although after Saturday night that might change.

I could have done this trip by air, but would have missed the towns, the sometimes rugged scenery, and the sense of space that rural Portugal and Spain gives you. And I would have missed the supermarket in Badajoz, and the customer in front of me who handed back a cake as it took her spending over the amount of cash in her hand. The bloke on the till sent it back, together with someone else’s large pizza.

Prices go up, the money to pay for them does not. Go figure.

The Flag And Caucus Bar

Those who marvelled at the ability of the Dacre hackery to inflate a banner headline out of nothing factual to kick the BBC over supposedly abandoning BC and AD now have another fact-free frightener to admire: this time the bogeyman is not the Beeb, or asylum seekers, or even Muslims, but another old faithful, the dastardly EU, which is gunning for the Union flag.

Actually, the EU isn’t doing any such thing: the by-line of “Mail On Sunday Reporter”, code for “nobody would put their name to it, even when threatened with a carpeting from Dacre himself”, gives the game away. The European Council’s communications director – that’s press officer in basic English – was the one making the comments, at a meeting of, er, press officers.

So a press officer – decision making power exactly zero – making comments about promoting the EU’s “brand” becomes a “senior EU official” (“officials” plural in the sub-heading), “outrage” has been caused, and the thundering headline “Now the Union Jack is under attack as EU officials try to take us closer to a United States of Europe” has been invented.

Press officers doing promotion (or, to many people, spin) is not somewhere I’d care to go, but it isn’t policy making. And the Mail story is complete invention: this is agenda driven hackery at its worst. But at least the hack who put this pile of freshly steaming stuff together maintained some anonymity. Over at the Telegraph, their political editor Patrick Hennessy had to put his name to something similar.

“Britain faces new isolation threat from Eurozone ‘caucus’” is the line being fed to obedient Telegraph readers. The piece sounds authoritative: “The document seen by the Sunday Telegraph shows ...” it starts, but then the source is revealed, and it is anti-EU Astroturf lobby group Open Europe. Hennessy tries to bolster this recycled press release by trying to scrape together “evidence”, but fails miserably.

And the most mainstream talking head he can muster is fringe Tory MP John “live long and prosper” Redwood, but at least he didn’t have to follow the Mail into scraping the barrel and coming up with Nigel “thirsty” Farage of UKIP and master of the casual smear Eric Pickles. The only bonus in both cases is the absence of the so-called Taxpayers’ Alliance.

Patrick Hennessy, like his colleague Alistair Osborne, was once credited with being a serious journalist. Osborne sprayed his credibility up the wall trying to stand up the story about Siemens getting the Thameslink contract in a way that they didn’t, and now Hennessy is expending his own credibility by putting his name to formulaic knocking copy. And that leaves one conclusion.

Which is that the Telegraph is now so bad, it’s worse for your cred than the Mail.

Murdoch Is Served (60)

Rupe and his troops must have thought that, with the continuing cascade of revelations from Phonehackgate, things couldn’t get much worse. And then, on Friday afternoon, things duly got worse. A lot worse. Because one of those troops has been arrested on suspicion of participating in the oldest of The Dark Arts, that of bribing a serving Police officer for information.

And it’s not any old hack who has had his collar felt: Jamie Pyatt has worked for News International for all of 24 years. His arrest is connected to a six-figure amount of money which is thought to have changed hands to facilitate the passage of otherwise confidential information to the Sun newspaper. Pyatt is looking at what the more tactful call a custodial sentence.

Moreover, the old days when, as Nick Davies put it in Flat Earth News, “dog doesn’t eat dog”, are over: the Guardian has company in reporting the news this time round. The Maily Telegraph named Pyatt and gave the piece prominent billing. The Independent was in there too. Even the Mirror, which might have desisted from openly mentioning its rival paper, has the story (but not the name).

What is more revealing, though, is those supposedly fearless pillars of the blogosphere who have thus far declined to mention the arrest. Step forward the perpetually thirsty Paul Staines and his tame gofer Henry Cole at the Guido Fawkes blog, the Laurel and Hardy of the blogosphere, who kept schtum for several hours after the story broke.

Finding out what they're not talking about

That, though, is little surprise, given the inability of Staines and Cole to call Phonehackgate correctly in the first place. Their inability to follow the money and instead launch an evidence-free campaign against Piers “Morgan” Moron gained them no credibility at all – plus a few more news outlets who won’t take them on trust again – and their unwillingness to look elsewhere is telling.

In the world of Staines and Cole, going after their pals – that’s the Murdoch press, Associated Newspapers (the Daily Mail and Mail On Sunday), and the Maily Telegraph – is something they are unwilling or unable to do. In their world of blinkered tribalism, everything bad is caused by rotten lefties, which means the Mirror, Guardian and above all the BBC.

Still, they’re number one, or so they say. Keep up the ritual incantation, lads.

[Staines and Cole have had a whole day to raise a single Tweet on this story, but have failed to even reach the start line. Fingers in ears, La La La, they can’t hear you (continued excuse #94)]

TPA – Low Lying In Hull

Although the so-called Taxpayers’ Alliance (TPA) has, as Zelo Street revealed exclusively recently, abandoned its street campaign against Trade Union Representatives’ facility time – which the TPA dishonestly dubbed “Taxpayer Funded Trade Unionism” – they have taken to the streets in pursuit of “competition” and “freedom of choice”, but no less dishonestly.

The TPA’s “grassroots coordinator” Andrew Allison – a title denoting a non-job if ever there was one – arranged this event on his home turf in Hull last weekend, with a “campaign” to end the supposed monopoly of Kingston Communications, Hull’s telecoms provider. Allison alleges that “almost everyone in the city wants a choice in who supplies their telephone and broadband services”.

Were I a betting man, I would wager good money that Allison and his pals did not canvass a statistically significant part of Hull’s population in pursuit of that proposition, nor that they put their questions in a way that was other than leading, or otherwise slanted. Ditto the assertion that “We also know people feel they are paying too much, and suffer from poor download speeds”.

I would challenge the TPA to share their questions and the way in which they were pitched with a wider audience, were I less than certain that Allison and his fellow non-job holders would prove, as so often, of less than perfect courage. But one thing of which I can be certain without further enquiry is what the TPA did not tell those polled, and what they didn’t in Ashton-under-Lyne.

And that is the remainder of the TPA agenda: to abolish the minimum wage, lower the poverty line, demonise any kind of Government, urge removal of assistance for local public transport, and spread misinformation about the NHS. Merely keeping schtum is not good enough: the TPA will claim the signatures gathered last weekend as a barometer of support.

Were the people of Hull to have been given that information before being offered the petition to sign, most of them would not have gone near it. Were they to be told after the event what the TPA was really about, many would be horrified. What Andrew Allison and his pals did last weekend was utterly and inexcusably dishonest: they should be ashamed, but this is not a condition the TPA recognises in itself.

No change there, then.

Greek Reverse – Not By Greeks

A referendum can be a difficult thing for the why-oh-why part of the Fourth Estate, especially when it is proposed by one of those people from countries who not only talk foreign, but also write funny as well. So it was when Greek PM George Papandreou called one over the financial restructuring package offered to his country by the EU.

One might have thought that, given all the howling for such a vote in the UK on our remaining within the EU, there would have been a chorus of approval, but the obedient hackery of the legendarily foul mouthed Paul Dacre was having none of it: Greece was “A corrupt nation holding a gun to the EU’s head”, asserted the furious headline.

But the Daily Mail need not have worried: Papandreou clearly had another think about it, and today declared that the Greeks were not, after all, to be offered a vote on the bailout package. This, though, was even worse: this was an “EU turn” (geddit?!?) and Greece had been “bullied” into changing tack. The thought that Papandreou had thought better of it – and considered his future – did not enter.

Who was behind the “bullying”? The Mail’s unfeasibly smug James Chapman had the answer: it was “Merkozy”. Wow. As Derek and Clive said, he ought to be on the radio with stuff like that. Also bidding for a place in the limelight is his colleague Tim Shipman, who says the Treasury admits the Euro is breaking up. How will I pay my hotel bills this week with those worthless Euro?

How? Those Euro aren’t worthless, so I won’t have a problem. The Treasury didn’t make the admission, Shipman is full of wind and water, and the Mail is misleading its readers. Pope Catholic, bears dump in woods. The Express is even in close pursuit, pushing the line that Papandreou has been “backed into a corner”. At least they’re all facing the same way now.

Pity it’s not the direction they were facing in yesterday. No change there, then.

The Iberian Journey Continues

There may be a brief interruption to blogging, as tomorrow brings a long and leisurely journey away from Lisbon. On the face of it, Portugal’s capital is as ever, almost a throwback to the past with its narrow streets, little shops, old neighbourhoods, faded buildings and the constant sound of tramcars passing nearby. But merely to look does not even scratch the surface.

Lisbon sprawls out over its nearby hills and across the Tagus, and much of that is recent, often middle-rise apartment blocks as one might see in Amsterdam or Barcelona. Some of the neighbourhoods are pleasant, but others have their share of problems. There is more to this city than the Baixa, Chiado, Bairro Alto, Mouraria and Alfama.

There is also more homelessness than before, and more people openly begging, either on the street, or on occasion on the city’s Metro system, which is supposed to be wholly gated, as is that in London. There are protests not just outside Parliament, but across the city, and regularly: yesterday one such occupied the Praça do Comércio during the afternoon.

Austerity programmes have cut salaries of public servants and increased their pension contributions – the so-called Taxpayers’ Alliance and their chorus of nodding donkeys would be deeply impressed – and there has been a cull of infrastructure projects. There is even a suggestion that city public transport should cease running late at night, which shows that politicians need to get out more, as in the UK.

Many businesses open well into the evening, and how their staff will get home to Amadora and Odivelas is not told. Not everyone can afford to live in the city centre. This has an echo of the housing benefit debate facing Londoners right now. And too much austerity means less folk employed, and less economic activity. Portugal, like the UK, needs a Plan B if there is to be growth.

One small plus point is that the Auto Europa plant over the river is now exporting its VWs to China – rather than those exports being done from Germany. But the overall picture is not good. And with that thought, it’s on to another troubled capital city tomorrow. More from the Eurozone later.

TPA – Showing Their True Colours

Second homes, or more often holiday homes, are no doubt A Good Thing for those who own them. For many locals in the areas where the better-off drive up house prices and effectively bar others from the market, they are a wasted resource, lived in for a few weeks every year – maybe even week Singular if owners are busy or holidaying elsewhere.

Yet second homes still command a 10% Council Tax discount, mainly because they do not require as much of the local authority’s resource: there is generally less refuse to take away, less demand on services like libraries, parks, public transport and education. But those same local authorities are now being allowed to withdraw that 10% concession.

For most second home owners, that will not trouble them in the least. But for one supporter of the so-called Taxpayers’ Alliance (TPA) this is a terrible thing that Communities Secretary Eric Pickles has done. J-P Floru, who no doubt by sheer coincidence is also a leading light of the Adam Smith Institiute (ASI), that museum of outdated economic thought that has fraudulently appropriated the name of the founder of economics, is horrified.

M Floru, who claims to be a “classical liberal”, argues that this move will cause harm to second home owners, and is just about “greedy councils”. This should surprise no-one familiar with the Floru oeuvre: he has previously argued passionately for scrapping the 50p rate of income tax, as he knows people who have been “forced” to “flee” the UK as a result of its imposition.

Somehow, however, I doubt that this defence will count for much with folks in Devon and Cornwall, the Lake District, and parts of Wales, where outsiders have bought significant numbers of properties, reducing the available housing stock, forcing up prices, while all the time not being there most of the year and therefore harming local businesses and the wider community.

This will be no problem for a “classical liberal”, which is code for someone who believes laissez-faire economics should mean exactly what it says on the tin. But, as Margaret Thatcher didn’t say, there is such a thing as community, and M Floru’s overmonied pals should not be getting special treatment for messing around with it just so they can have a place in the country.

The Frack Fracking Well Did It

Anyone in any doubt as to the reason for Cuadrilla Resources’ glowing report on the prospects for shale gas exploration around Blackpool need doubt no longer: the findings of the investigation into two earth tremors near the site of Cuadrilla’s test well – which were found to “have a similar mechanism” – have been released. And the conclusion points at that well as the source of the shakes.

Small wonder, then, that Cuadrilla suggested that the reserves of gas could be on such a huge scale: that would help move public opinion outside the north west – in other words, those whose lives would remain unaffected by the earthquakes, but who would like the prospect of cheap energy – in their favour. It’s a cheap and blatant ploy. But some pundits have bought it uncritically.

What now? Well, what won’t be happening is Cuadrilla getting carte blanche to sink dozens more wells deep into shale beneath Lancashire. The tremors may have been comparatively small – around level 2 – but turning the test well into a productive field would mean scaling up well numbers, and potentially scaling up the number and strength of earthquakes too.

The opposition to continuing hydraulic fracturing – or fracking – will be heard: those living near to the proposed wells and the surrounding area are unlikely to be agnostic on the prospect of more seismic activity, and protests are certain to come from environmentalists opposed to the release of significantly more carbon dioxide and methane into the atmosphere.

The latter, in the form of the group calling itself Fracked Off, has now occupied Cuadrilla’s test rig at Banks, near Southport – another seaside resort that, like Blackpool, stands to lose business if fracking is permitted and starts in earnest. One should not have to consult the Echo to understand that folks in Liverpool are watching events with some concern.

It will be interesting to see how James “saviour of Western civilisation” Delingpole and his mentor Christopher Booker now approach the subject. Perhaps Del Boy will continue to tell that it’s all “Oop North” and therefore should not stand in the way of his desire to have cheap gas for Himself Personally Now. Perhaps he will realise that those “Oop North” possess rights equal to those he enjoys.

Or perhaps he will continue to spout abuse in pursuit of personal aggrandisement and the enjoyment of his echo chamber of admirers (Sid and Doris Bonkers). For some, it’s the simple pleasures from which they take the greatest satisfaction.

[Delingpole has now decided not to mention the wellbeing of folks in Lancashire, but has dumped on the BBC instead for not serving up the news in a way that he finds ideologically acceptable]

The Protests Spread

Lisbon has in the recent past been a very accessible city: few parts of the city are off limits to the public, unless admission charges are levied. That extended to the Parliament building at the foot of the long hill that leads up to the suburb of Estrela, but then came the marches and the protests. The Police turned out in force, and then the barriers went up.

Actually, visitors can still get close up to the building, and most of the time security is discreet. But opposite the imposing facade of Parliament, a protest vigil has begun, and access from the front steps has been barred. Banners hang from the barriers, making a sad contrast between the comfortable within, and the less fortunate outside.

This isn’t a protest on the scale of that outside St Paul’s cathedral, which has provoked such a storm of controversy, but it is a vigil which has not been deterred by some appallingly wet weather, and the apparent indifference (thus far) of those elected to serve.

And, yes, there are more strikes and marches lined up between now and the end of the year in and around Lisbon. Those giving all their attention to Greece might do well to remember that there are other countries in the Eurozone suffering the less than beneficial effects of austerity programmes right now.

It’s Still A Mad Mel

What, I sometimes wonder, is Melanie Phillips’ problem? Yes, there are protests around London and across Europe, politicians of all stripes face new and testing challenges, and much of the world faces a future less certain than a decade ago. But that is no excuse for spewing out apocalyptic ranting and trying to frighten folks with visions of conflict, or even war (as in nuclear war).

But that is, more or less, what Mel is offering Daily Mail readers today. Anyone protesting brings out the intemperate and authoritarian in her, the Coalition Government gets it in the neck for, well, being a Coalition Government – Young Dave cannot do anything that meets with Mel’s approval – and everyone in the Middle East outside Israel is bent on wiping it out.

It’s hard to decipher her reasoning, other than that it consists of screaming denunciation of anyone not doing her bidding, an appeal to crack down on anyone dissenting or having the temerity to enjoy themselves (and throw lots and lots of folks into the nearest slammer), and a further appeal to allow the Government in Jerusalem to take out a few of its neighbours.

I hate to dissent from Mel’s Weltanschauung, but this is total crap. We didn’t get half decent workplace conditions by not occasionally rocking the boat. Universal suffrage only happened because folks were prepared to kick off about the UK being, prior to 1918 (that’s less than a century ago), a less than totally democratic country, and change is unlikely without someone first saying that something is wrong.

And that includes the phoney and ineffective “war on drugs” which Mel wants pursued with even more vigour – until someone mentions that it is absorbing serious amount of money and getting us precisely nowhere. Then there is the question of the Middle East, which she insists on bringing up at every opportunity – it’s the subject that got her binned from the Spectator.

Israel will not co-exist peacefully with its neighbours by aggression, and that much is obvious to Bibi Netenyahu and his fellow members of the Knesset. Pumping high explosive – and maybe worse – into Iran on a whim is not a fruitful way to achieve any kind of settlement in the region. In any case, as Mel might have noticed, the IDF has not suffered any serious military setback since it was created.

First Amendment considerations dictate that Melanie Phillips and her like should be able to say what they like, and when and where they like. I commend her persistence in the face of reality. But just occasionally I wish she would go and have a long rest – then try looking at the world without the prejudice that is shot through any and all of her ramblings.

And Mel – save us the witless Gandhi reference and do some homework.

Iberian Journey

As the clocks go back and November begins – but the UK still remains untouched by the predicted wintry weather and temperatures “as low as -20C” – Zelo Street is on tour in Iberia. Tuesday afternoon brought departure from Liverpool Airport on the last EasyJet flight of the season to Lisbon, a route the carrier should be running all year round, although carrying skiers may be more profitable.

So the loading of just 90 – most of them Portuguese returning home – was no surprise, and pushing back at 1645 on the dot not a problem. A slightly bumpy encounter with the Atlantic Jet Stream led to an early arrival, but any optimism was deflated by the realisation that this was a new part of Lisbon Airport, with a remarkably long walk (with hand luggage) to get out of the place.

Tuesday was a public holiday in Portugal, so downtown was quiet – but rather quieter than usual. Just how quiet the austerity drive has made this most intimate of capital cities will be relayed later in the week. There has been talk of economising on street lighting and stopping bus and Metro services earlier in the evening, but this would hit both local and tourist economy badly.

Already, those bedding down in shop doorways have been noticeable: how many more there are remains to be seen. And one should bear in mind that this is not a Mediterranean city, or indeed country: the winter months bring their share of cooler and wetter conditions. Indeed, the forecast is for some heavy showers and even some thunder. Sleeping rough is no soft option.

And, as it was the last flight to Lisbon, how does the return home happen? Ah well. This is also scheduled to be with EasyJet, so it won’t be from Lisbon. The Iberian journey continues later, in hopefully more leisurely style. But the realisation that this part of the world may contain economies that are close to the edge will also be kept in mind.

I’ll post more on this later in the week.

A Sad Story From Lymington – THE END

Today in Southampton, the case of ticket clerk Ian Faletto reached Southampton, where a tribunal hearing was scheduled for 1000 hours. Many press representatives were present, maybe with the hope of seeing the little man triumph over dastardly South West Trains (SWT). Sadly for the hacks, and everyone else who turned up, there was no tribunal hearing.

This is because Faletto’s case was withdrawn before the hearing started. This was after SWT presented evidence to his counsel that precipitated the advice to withdraw. Faletto has conceded that he would not have won the day, but has maintained that he did clear a shopping trolley from the track at Lymington Pier station.

SWT has disputed that claim. But then, as the case did not come to a hearing, none of the evidence will be made public. This gives the Fourth Estate plenty of scope to kick both SWT and the RMT, while suggesting that Faletto is somehow innocent, despite his admission. But the why-oh-why punditry will have some difficulty, given the vehemence of SWT’s statement.

And the fact will remain that Ian Faletto’s dismissal stands, and he hasn’t been paid off. As none of the evidence held by SWT has been presented, I will not be presenting anything held by Zelo Street. But, as one long serving railway worker has said, it’s not easy for anyone with 20 years’ service to get themselves sacked by The Railway.

THE END

Telegraph In Rail Confusion

Commercial pressures on newspapers mean less hacks who understand anything outside the mainstream: specialism nowadays extends to sport – and often only football – and, for the quality titles, the arts. Transport matters often end up being covered by the same person who road tests the latest cars, with the all too predictable result that they know less than many in their audience.

At the Maily Telegraph, Alistair Osborne was an honourable exception: he was well regarded by even the specialists on the Rail industry. Sadly, though, he sprayed his credibility up the wall in one go with a formulaic EU-bashing piece in July claiming that the Thameslink order was won by Siemens because they could finance the deal more cheaply. This was soon debunked.

Beeching was not here until 26 years later

So now Telegraph readers have the wisdom of Michael Deacon, whose latest effort, about former BR chairman Richard Beeching, is confused and misleading. He talks of “a poem about an empty train station”, while someone has rustled up a stock photo of a station that was anything but empty: London’s King’s Cross, taken in September 1935 as the “Silver Jubilee” departs on its first trial run.

Many hacks didn’t get on board, hence the numbers watching from an adjacent platform or on the track, a sight that would give anyone involved with health and safety palpitations. This run was famous for one thing: the speeds achieved included two maxima of over 112mph, and locomotive designer Nigel Gresley had at one point to tell the driver to “ease his arm”.

The “Silver Jubilee” was a commercial success, and ran full most weekdays as it brought businessmen from Newcastle and Darlington to London for a few hours at head office before whisking them back north. Its successor trains in the 1960s were one of the things Richard Beeching positively encouraged. It was followed by more “streamliners” before War intervened in 1939.

Deacon also misreads Beeching completely: by the time the former head of ICI arrived at BR, debts were spiralling and the organisation was not playing to its strengths. Closure of loss-making lines and services did not depend on who had read what poem at school: Beeching was utterly unsentimental, and even included his local station in Kent in the closure proposals.

Beeching also encouraged BR to develop its own management programme, to realise that it had to function as a business, and that it had to become far more efficient over time. From his lead came the business led railway of the early 1990s, before “Shagger” Major and his sell-offs caused such disruption. There is a story to be told about Beeching: it’s sad that the Telegraph can’t be bothered.