The Glamour of the Railways

Stafford: Twinned with Gomorrah

"The glamour of the railways," says bus fan Gary Bainbridge as he passes through Stafford on his way somewhere - presumably - less grim.

This, of course, means only one thing - a turf war to find out which town has the worst railway station in the country. A station where the toilets are locked, the buffet makes Scout Hut coffee taste great, and the platforms smell of tramps. I'm going to restrict this to stations I've actually visited, otherwise things could get out of hand.

So. Aldershot railway station, clearly one of the highlights of visiting Aldershot.

Aldershot: Gateway to Your Mum

Grim that Aldershot may be, it's got nothing on Pokesdown for Boscombe and Despair, which appears not to have been touched by builder, gardener or decorator since Brunel last passed through.

Pokesdown: Regular connecting services for somewhere nicer

 (There's a petition to improve Pokesdown station, as it's completely inaccessible to pushchairs and the disabled)

And just a couple of stations down the line, there's the pre-fab concrete hell of Poole, with a matching pre-fab railway station.

Poole: The next tallest building to the west of here is in New York

There's a special place in my heart of Poole railway station, having been trapped here for hours at a time, in the pissing rain coming straight off the sea not 100 yards away, waiting for the last train to Weymouth, sharing the platform with knuckle-dragging drunks waiting for the last train to Hamworthy, a walled-off area upon which the film Escape from New York is based.

And down in the south-west, I once accidentally found myself at Falmouth Town station.

Falmouth Town: Change here to be stared at by the locals

This picture says "Looking toward Truro", which is exactly where anybody with any sense would rather be.

I once went to Aberystwyth, you know.

Aberystwyth: There's a Wimpy in town (Information correct as of April 1983)

I had a Wimpy, and stayed in the worst bed and breakfast you could possibly imagine, even worse than the ones at the bottom of swamps run by mass-murderers.

Ash Vale: Prepare to be searched

Ash Vale. And they say Surrey's beautiful. This is all the evidence you need to the contrary.

As you can see from these pictures, there's a common theme in that there are no trains to be seen. This reflects the hours that seem to leak away into days, weeks and months as you wait for a service that takes you out of these places. Some never leave.

Coming soon*: A short series on shit motorway service stations.

* Probably not coming soon

Correction: The original version of this story suggested that Mr Gary Bainbridge is a "bun fan", when he is - in fact - a fan of busses. We apologise for any distress caused.