Ban Eating on Trains

Last Train to Fatville

I know. It's a bit harsh, and I have frequently eaten on trains, planes and buses. Running late, I've snaffled some toast or a packet of crisps. And on flights the more formal meal is acceptable as everyone is eating at the same time. What I am talking about here is the super-sizing, relentless, greedy pig eating that has become de rigueur on all form of transport. It needs to stop.

Last Friday I took an evening train from Marylebone in London to Wrexham in Wales. This service is provided by the Wrexham and Shropshire Railway, and a jolly good thing it is too. Very cheap tickets, comfortable old trains (I think they use old rolling stock from the 1970s - you can even slide down the windows on the doors if you need a breath of fresh air). Really handy for me as I could be picked up in Wrexham and driven to north Wales no problem. So, an all round good thing.

I settled into my seat with a small bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon, and started reading my book (Don Winslow's truly excellent The Gentlemen's Hour, if you are looking for holiday reads.) I was in a single seat, facing forwards. Nobody next to me. Marvellous. Four hours of reading, dosing and looking at the sun slide down in the west. In front of me were four, and I don't use the words lightly, fat pigs. That's obviously not a problem at all: fat pigs have the right to travel on trains the same as anybody else.

Anyway, I settled into reading. I had just turned over to page two when the fat people started rummaging in their bags. First, they produced a huge bucket of Kentucky Fried Chicken, bags of fries and two enormous bottles of coke. Diet coke, ironically. I winced as I stole a peak through the gap in the chairs and watched their greasy fingers pluck low-grade battered chicken pieces out of the bucket and force them into their shiny faces. They didn't really speak while this was happening, just gobbled and slurped and made kind of sexual grunting noises of satisfaction. I hate the smell of KFC, and the carriage was full of it. Oh well, I thought. At least they've got their nosebag out of the way early doors.

By page eight, the bucket was gone, as were the four litres of coke. There was a lovely lull, a lull where I sipped my wine, looked out of the window at the Chilterns slipping away and . . . looked on in horror as more bags of food were produced. This time sandwiches from M and S, big bags of wine gums and a king-size bag of Doritos. One of the fat people had the grace to say "I know I shouldn't, but I am getting stuck into one of these sarnies." The reply: "Don't apologise love, they are bloody gorgeous." Gorgeous? Who calls a fucking sandwich gorgeous? The sandwiches were duly ripped open, the Doritos bag offered, split open like a sacrifice, to the table. What followed can only be described as a loud feeding frenzy: crunching, snorting, chomping. I looked to my left at a man who had his iPod phones in ears - presumably to drown out the sound of the fat people. I rolled my eyes. He smiled resignedly. It was ridiculous. I realised that eating - non-stop eating - was what these people did to communicate. They didn't read or write or talk or look out of the window and think, they ate. They confirmed their place in the world by making themselves occupy more of it. They ate, therefore they were.

I've been on three-day train journeys where people survive on a couple of light meals a day. You would have thought this quartet of goliaths were at the Last Supper. Or suppers, to be precise. How much bloody food do people need to sustain them through a four-hour journey? It didn't end with the sandwiches, obviously. The buffet car was ransacked for more salty snacks and bottles of Magners. The eating and drinking didn't really stop until Telford, when a quarter-tonne of the group disembarked. It was a grotesque spectacle. Almost inhuman. So, I'd like to see eating on trains banned this week. Failing that, for those who have to stuff themselves, a special car with troughs, away from the rest of the train, perhaps a carriage away from the rest of us separated with the engine. Along with the Silent carriage, we could have the Food Free carriage. And perhaps in future, people could learn to eat before setting off on their journey.