#interrail2026 - day 1: a detour with my family on the way to Antwerp

So, having retrieved my wallet, it was time to start my journey. Ipswich to Liverpool Street was easy enough - I even won the “Greater Anglia lottery” with the first class carriages actually on the 09.41. It’s all becoming a bit cheapskate these days, as Greater Anglia don’t offer free hot drinks and biscuits to first class passengers at weekends any more, but the new Stadler and Waldorf rolling stock is comfortable enough.

And then things started going a little haywire. My plan was to take the Elizabeth Line to Farringdon and then Thameslink to Brent Cross West, but, as it turned out, Thameslink was the victim of engineering works. So, the Metropolitan Line to Kings Cross St Pancras, where a rather grumpy barrier guard told me that my ticket wasn’t valid. “Your colleague at Farringdon told me to do this” sufficiently placated him to let me out and I then found myself heading upstream against hordes of Leeds United supporters heading for a bit of a disappointment at Wembley.

Brent Cross West is a brand new station, between Cricklewood and Hendon on the line to Luton and Bedford, and a short walk from there takes you to the bus to Kingsbury.

Lunch with my parents and my niece, Imogen, and plenty of conversation followed but, all too soon, it was time to move on. Immy accompanied me to Hendon where we parted company, and I headed for St Pancras International for what I had been led to believe would be the chaos of the new immigration procedures at the border. You might imagine my wry smile upon clearing security and French border control in ten minutes… 

Eurostar was uneventful, which seems like an odd thing to write as I think about it, although the notion of getting on a train and getting off it in another country is pretty revolutionary from a British perspective, and I made my connection at Brussels Gare du Midi with plenty of time to spare.

A short hop to Antwerpen Centraal and I was safely tucked up in my hotel room across the street from the Opera House.

Next, day 2 - why are so many people wearing orange?

#interrail2026 - starting with a near facepalm…

So, here I am, on the 09.41 from Ipswich to Liverpool Street, about to embark on another “epic” train journey. And yet, I nearly fell at the first hurdle…

You know how it is. Working out what to pack, making sure that you’ve got the right cables for your various bits of IT, checking that your passport is valid, all of these elements that, if missed, might cause inconvenience at some unwelcome point in a trip. But, I was somewhat better organised this time, and was packed the day before leaving - Ros’s organisational skills might be rubbing off at last.

I even woke up a bit earlier than usual, allowing a leisurely cup of coffee with the woman I love, before heading to the station rather earlier than necessary - another Ros trait the benefit of which I have come to appreciate.

I was halfway to the station when it dawned on me that I had everything except… my wallet… Now, as modern online banking has enabled me to do a surprising amount without ever having to find my wallet, I do have the sense that it might be better to have physical backup. And so, I bolted back to the house, collected the wallet and scurried off to the station, arriving to find my intended train on the platform.

Let’s try not to make that mistake again, shall we?…

Reflections of a dinosaur: the world of work changes…

I was on editorial duty at Liberal Democrat Voice yesterday and, as part of that, I try to promote each published article using our Bluesky account. My first comment began, “The work week starts here…”, I posted it and thought little more about it. Until, that is, I did think about it.

I’ve been employed by the same organisation for nearly forty years now, working in offices on, effectively, a 9-5, Monday to Friday basis. I am, you might say, somewhat institutionalised.

When I started, in the mid-eighties, if you wanted to talk to a professional, or purchase a service, you did it between 9 and 5, Monday to Friday. Shops were mostly shut on Sundays, on random midweek afternoons, depending on where you lived, and almost certainly weren’t open after 6. Your initial approach was in writing, using envelopes and stamps, or by telephone.

You could still hope to find a job for life, in an organisation which had a solid track record and expectation of longevity.

And that makes me a bit of a dinosaur. The emergence of the gig economy, the internet and the expectation that organisations will respond over longer hours and at weekends means that the idea of a “work week” is blurred beyond easy recognition.

With that have come benefits for some. My 9-5 has become 37 hours, where I could start at 7 a.m. or finish at 8 p.m., and flexible working hours mean that I can manage my attendance to suit my needs - within reason, obviously. But, as an “individual contributor”, as long as I keep my “customers” aware of my broad availability, nobody much minds.

On the downside, the end of “jobs for life” means that the loyalty of employees to employers, and the respect of employers for employees has frayed significantly. If employees feel like interchangeable widgets, employers shouldn’t be terribly surprised if said widgets seek a more rewarding machine to be a part of. And, in any event, as housing costs rise, the need to pursue better salaries means a more opportunistic workforce.

I tend to think that a degree of workforce stability is good for any organisation. You need a core of people who know their jobs, offer an institutional memory and are willing to share the experience and knowledge. But you also need to avoid continuous tinkering with structures and employee terms and conditions, something that I have observed increasingly both within my own organisation and others. Change, especially poorly explained change, is destabilising at best, and damaging to morale and productivity at worst.

Forty years has seen radical change in the world of work, and the pace of technological change only seems to accelerate. It may be time for this dinosaur to evolve or die…