The wrong kind of train, or the wrong approach?

Farmhouses and meadows drift past the window through an Impressionistic veil of winter-naked beech trees. A pillow of cloud rests on the horizon to the south-west, and above it a half-moon smiles down on the South East. Even in January the delicate landscapes of Sussex and Surrey lure the commuter's eye from a newspaper. But once the northbound train reaches Greater London, the headlines may appeal more than Coulsdon and Croydon. Had you been reading The Independent on Wednesday aboard the 7.29am from Brighton to London Victoria, you would have learnt you were travelling on "Britain's train of shame".

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