This article is part of a series called ‘A love letter to…’, where Cycling Weekly writers pour praise on their favourite aspects of cycling and share the personal connection they have with them. In this case, it is a break-up letter, addressed to poor train infrastructure for those travelling with bicycles.
The train from Bristol to London is a busy route; it has room for about 600 seats, along with plenty more standing room, which is regularly needed at peak times. It’s a journey I take often, not always all the way to the capital, but for getting about places. Despite that reasonably big capacity, it often has room for about six bikes, if that.
You should make a reservation, you’re told, and so you do, adding an extra hurdle to your journey. If you’ve passed that step, however, it doesn’t necessarily end there. Who knows how many other people will turn up to the train you’ve booked on with their bikes, or how many bikes are already on the train. “There’s no space,” they’ll tell you. “But I’ve reserved a space,” you plead. No luck. You’re basically operating on goodwill to get onto the train in the first place. There’s more.
Space on the Intercity trains is, let’s say, minimised as much as possible for bikes. There’s no carriage or any room at all really, just space for two bikes to be hung up by their wheels in a cupboard, although this doesn’t take into account big tyres, deep section rims, panniers, or any kind of bike which is non-standard. It’s clear that bicycles are far from the priority. I regularly have to go through the ignominy of scraping my carbon rims onto the hooks, which is a struggle in itself, and it’s hard before the chaos of a second bike appearing, or a third.
You are then forced to look after your bike yourself, controlling the space, working out the nightmare jenga, and asking people where they’re getting off repeatedly, like you’re an overly officious conductor. And remember, this is all if you make it on the train in the first place. The experience, from start to finish, is often arduous and anxiety-inducing.
This is just one train operator, and one of their trains, but it doesn’t get much better across Britain. There are a few that are better, and have some dedicated space, but it’s a lottery based on where you’re going and who you’re buying your ticket from. There is rarely anything easy about it.
The UK struggles to be a cycling nation, and never is that more clear than when you have to interact with different parts of infrastructure. Cycling on the roads is just about ok, if you can dodge the cars, but if you want to take your bike somewhere else, well then, that’s when the trouble begins.
This is never more glaringly obvious than when you visit the continent and you’re greeted with railway infrastructure which takes everyone’s journeys into account holistically, not just trying to get as many paying customers on board as possible. In Belgium, the Netherlands, Denmark, Germany and France, it is almost like you’re in a different world as a cyclist trying to catch a train. You might have to buy another ticket, but then you can just waltz on. Nothing of the levels of bureaucracy and awkwardness that comes with attempting to climb aboard a train with your bike in the UK.
The dream scenario, at the moment, when I catch the London train, is that there are no other bikes on board, and that I can spend my time faffing with the hook to hang my bike off. This feels like a shame, given I want as many people cycling as possible, but that’s just how bad it is at the moment. Just a little bit of extra room would make the world of difference, but it seems that cyclists are an afterthought.
