Rail fare hike: the 10 worst London commutes

Today's spike in train fares hits some journeys harder than others.

A moment's silence for those of us who have to get around by train. Over the last month we have had to deal with floods, signal failures, staff shortages and overcrowding. Now comes the news that rail fares are to be hiked once again.

The average rise is only 4.3 per cent, but as long as they stick to this average, train companies can increase the prices of some tickets as far as they like. The result is uneven, some routes are hit worse than others. Campaign groups point out that this is the 10th successive above-inflation rise, London commutes being particularly affected. Here are the 10 worst hit London travel routes:

1. Sevenoaks to London has gone up 87 per cent in the last 10 years. Weekly tickets have gone from £41.50 to £77.80 and season tickets from £1,660.00 to £3,112.00.

2. Ashford International in Kent to London has gone up 80 per cent in the last 10 years. Weekly tickets have gone from £66.50 to £119.50, and season tickets from £2,660.00 to £4,780.00.

3. Bracknell to London has gone up 78 per cent in the last 10 years. Weekly tickets have gone from £55.70 to £99.00, and season tickets from £2,228.00 to £3,960.00.

4. Canterbury to London has gone up 78 per cent in the last 10 years. Weekly tickets have gone from £67.50 to £120.30, and season tickets from £2,700.00 to £4,812.00

5. Tunbridge Wells to London has gone up 71 per cent in the last 10 years. Weekly tickets have gone from £60.30 to £103.30, and season tickets from £2,412.00 to £4,132.00.

6. Maidstone to London has gone up 68 per cent in the last 10 years. Weekly tickets have gone from £59.00 to £99.00, and season tickets from £2,360.00 to £3,960.00.

7. Tonbridge to London has gone up 68 per cent in the last 10 years. Weekly tickets have gone from £56.00 to £94.20, and season tickets from £2,240.00 to £3,768.00

8. Gillingham to London has gone up 67 per cent in the last 10 years. Weekly tickets have gone from £55.10 to £91.80, and season tickets from £2,204.00 to £3,672.00.

9. Hastings to London has gone up 59 per cent in the last 10 years. Weekly tickets have gone from £72.00 to £114.60, and season tickets from £2,880.00 and £4,584.00.

10. Eastbourne to London has gone up 58 per cent in the last 10 years. Weekly tickets have gone from £68.00 to £107.60, and season tickets from £2,720.00 to £4,304.00.

The data came from Campaign for Better Transport, and was calculated using the weekly and season ticket prices between 2003 and 2013. It took inflation into account. (There is not yet a complete data set for travel routes outside London).

Stephen Joseph, the executive director of Campaign for Better Transport, said:

“These fare spikes are bad for people and bad for the environment. Once again, the Government is talking tall but walking short when it comes to ensuring the transport sector tackles climate change. If it is serious about tackling climate change, it must ensure train journeys are an attractive, affordable option for people.”

The average rise in fares is 4.3 per cent. Photograph: Getty Images
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What David Hockney has to tell us about football

Why the sudden glut of blond footballers? A conversation I had with the artist back in 1966 gave me a clue. . .

In 1966, I went to interview David Hockney at a rather run-down flat in Bayswater, central London. He was 28 and had just won a gold medal at the Royal College of Art.

In his lavatory, I noticed a cut-out photograph from a newspaper of Denis Law scoring a goal. I asked if he was a football fan. He said no, he just liked Denis Law’s thighs.

The sub-editors cut that remark out of the story, to save any gossip or legal problems. In 1966 homosexual activity could still be an offence.

Hockney and a friend had recently been in the United States and had been watching an advert on TV that said “Blondes have more fun”. At two o’clock in the morning, slightly drunk, they both went out, bought some hair dye and became blond. Hockney decided to remain blond from then on, though he has naturally dark hair.

Is it true that blonds have more fun? Lionel Messi presumably thinks so, otherwise why has he greeted this brand-new season with that weird blond hair? We look at his face, his figure, his posture and we know it’s him – then we blink, thinking what the heck, does he realise some joker has been pouring stuff on his head?

He has always been such a staid, old-fashioned-looking lad, never messing around with his hair till now. Neymar, beside him, has gone even blonder, but somehow we expect it of him. He had foony hair even before he left Brazil.

Over here, blonds are popping up all over the shop. Most teams now have a born-again blondie. It must take a fortune for Marouane Fellaini of Man United to brighten up his hair, as he has so much. But it’s already fading. Cheapskate.

Mesut Özil of Arsenal held back, not going the full head, just bits of it, which I suspect is a clue to his wavering, hesitant personality. His colleague Aaron Ramsey has almost the full blond monty. Paul Pogba of Man United has a sort of blond streak, more like a marker pen than a makeover. His colleague Phil Jones has appeared blond, but he seems to have disappeared from the team sheet. Samir Nasri of Man City went startlingly blond, but is on loan to Seville, so we’re not able to enjoy his locks. And Didier Ndong of Sunderland is a striking blond, thanks to gallons of bleach.

Remember the Romanians in the 1998 World Cup? They suddenly appeared blond, every one of them. God, that was brilliant. One of my all-time best World Cup moments, and I was at Wembley in 1966.

So, why do they do it? Well, Hockney was right, in a sense. Not to have more fun – meaning more sex – because top footballers are more than well supplied, but because their normal working lives are on the whole devoid of fun.

They can’t stuff their faces with fast food, drink themselves stupid, stay up all night, take a few silly pills – which is what many of our healthy 25-year-old lads consider a reasonably fun evening. Nor can they spend all their millions on fun hols, such as skiing in the winter, a safari in the spring, or hang-gliding at the weekend. Prem players have to be so boringly sensible these days, or their foreign managers will be screaming at them in their funny foreign accents.

While not on the pitch, or training, which takes up only a few hours a day, the boredom is appalling, endlessly on planes or coaches or in some hotel that could be anywhere.

The only bright spot in the long days is to look in the mirror and think: “Hmm, I wonder what highlights would look like? I’ve done the beard and the tattoos. Now let’s go for blond. Wow, gorgeous.”

They influence each other, being simple souls, so when one dyes his hair, depending on where he is in the macho pecking order, others follow. They put in the day by looking at themselves. Harmless fun. Bless ’em.

But I expect all the faux blonds to have gone by Christmas. Along with Mourinho. I said that to myself the moment he arrived in Manchester, smirking away. Pep will see him off. OK then, let’s say Easter at the latest . . . 

Hunter Davies is a journalist, broadcaster and profilic author perhaps best known for writing about the Beatles. He is an ardent Tottenham fan and writes a regular column on football for the New Statesman.

This article first appeared in the 22 September 2016 issue of the New Statesman, The New Times