Since my last post on the matter of my ostentatious burning of precious hydrocarbons in the pursuit of such trivialities as a massive deal for my company, I’ve been at the same again.
530 mile round trip last Wednesday. Same again tomorrow.
Here’s why: There used to be a train that I could get. 10 minute drive to the station. Direct train to my destination in 4 hours. Not any more.
Now I have to make a bunch of changes, which means that (1) it takes an hour longer and (2) I can’t achieve the primary objective of doing any work, because I have to change trains at the height of rush hour, meaning the chance of a seat, let alone space to open a laptop is deeply unlikely to materialise.
I am not such a desperate smoker that I could not forego a cigarette for 4-5 hours, so given the other benefits, I would have taken a train if I could get on at 06:30 and arrive at 10:30 having done some work, read the paper and eaten breakfast. That would have been good. 21KG of CO2, my travel provider tells me, excluding my paper, coffee, iPod charging and possibly some farting.
So, I drive again. Another 300KG of the shibbolethic carbon-dioxide. But I get there quicker (even observing speed limits) than on the train, I avoid a rush-hour city-centre un-integrated transport nightmare and I can light up at my leisure. I will be comfortable, self-determined and relaxed. The only thing I lose is the ability to do any work for 4 hours.
Of course, I could fly there. That would take about a half hour less than driving, door-to-door, once you’ve had the airport anal probe and spent 18 quid on a dioxin-coffee and a dog-biscuit. It would cost 4 times as much as driving once you consider that the destination airport is principally used for moving livestock and is so far from the destination city that Michael O’Leary laughed at it. A kerching-o-cab into town and back is a must, and most of the cabbies are moonlighting suicide bombers.
And it wouldn’t save many polar bears anyway, as the dipshits who invaded Stansted today would tell you.