We have learnt to expect that trains will be punctual. After years of
conditioning, most of us have developed an unshakable faith in railway
timetables. Ships may be delayed by storms; flights may be cancelled because
of bad weather, but trains must be on time. Only an exceptionally heavy
snowfall might temporarily dislocate railway services. It is all too easy to
blame the railway authorities when something does go wrong. The truth is that
when mistakes occur, they are more likely to be ours than theirs.#
After consulting my railway timetable, I noted with satisfaction that there
was an express train to Westhaven. It went direct from my local station and
the journey lasted a mere hour and seventeen minutes. When I boarded the
train, I could not help noticing that a great many local people got on as
well. At the time, this did not strike me as odd. I reflected that there must
be a great many people besides myself who wished to take advantage of this
excellent service. Neither was I surprised when the train stopped at Widley, a
tiny station a few miles along the line. Even a mighty express train can be
held up by signals. But when the train dawdled at station after station, I
began to wonder, It suddenly dawned on me that this express was not roaring
down the line at ninety miles an hour, but barely chugging along at thirty.
One hour and seventeen minutes passed and we had not even covered half the
distance. I asked a passenger if this was the Westhaven Express, but he had
not even heard of it. I determined to lodge a complaint as soon as we arrived.
Two hours later, I was talking angrily to the station master at Westhaven.
When he denied the train's existence, I borrowed his copy of the timetable.
There was a note of triumph in my voice when I told him that it was there in
black and white. Glancing at it briefly, he told me to look again. A tiny
asterisk conducted me to a footnote at the bottom of the page. It said: 'This
service has been suspended.'&