Fossil Fuels to the Rescue

Last week I caught a glimpse of a future without fossil fuels, and I do not wish to go there. Yet, despite its President claiming there was no science behind calls to abandon fossil fuels, that is precisely what the COP28, which met recently in Dubai, has called for.

My story starts with the Editor-in-Chief of the Daily Sceptic who, despite his manifest qualities, is an ardent supporter of Queen’s Park Rangers (QPR). The fortunes and misfortunes of his local team are recorded in his Pride of West London Substack. Having lived in Kingston-upon-Hull for nearly 25 years, I long ago adopted Hull City, ‘The Tigers’, as my team, and my sons and grandsons have followed suit.

Since lockdown ended and football fans returned to the terraces, Toby and I have developed the habit of buying each other, and whatever assortment of our descendants come with us, lunch or dinner near our home grounds before our teams, both in the Championship (old Second Division), meet.

Thus it was that I found myself at Hull Paragon Station at 7am with my son Tom and four of my grandchildren, the youngest only eight years old, waiting for the train to London. We got to London, we got to Uxbridge Road, we met Toby and family and had lunch. This was not without its own difficulties as explained by Toby in his Substack column last week.

Thereupon, things went downhill quickly. QPR had not won two games in succession this season. In fact, they had barely won any games and we had not lost two games in succession. However, all that changed in favour of QPR who thumped us 2-0 and we deserved both goals and possibly more. For an alternative view of the match, from the losing side, see my grandson Jack Watson’s entry in his Ten Foot Tigers Substack.

With the long journey home to contemplate, things could hardly get worse. But they did. We struggled to get a seat in a crowded Pizza Express. I had made a reservation online, but it had not registered. We were accommodated by a kind and well tipped receptionist but had to rush somewhat to catch the train home, which is when it got much worse.

King’s Cross was packed with people staring at the departure screen on which it was indicated that all trains out of the station were “Delayed”. The delay was due to a storm that evening which had taken down overhead electrification at Peterborough. Hull is not on an electrified line, but we were catching an LNER to Doncaster intending to change to Hull. The line to Doncaster is electrified.

With six of us to find rooms for, all that was running through my mind was “what if the trains are cancelled?” And I soon found out. They were all cancelled. Immediately, like angry bees flowing from a hive, Euston Road was engulfed by hordes of northerners in search of hotel rooms. We ran to the nearest Premier Inn, but it was already fully booked. It was pointless trying to find anywhere else nearby as the streets outside looked like a Viking invasion was underway as people ran here and there, prepared to kill if necessary for a hotel room.

Via the Booking.com app on my phone I found us a place off Tottenham Court Road, near Oxford Street and, £600-plus poorer, we made our way to the Zedwell Underground Hotel which is, indeed, under the ground four storeys down. It deserves an article of its own. We scoured the local shops for toothbrushes, toothpaste, deodorant and phone chargers and settled down for the night, dreaming of clean underwear.

Up like a bunch of larks we trotted off to King’s Cross in search of a train. We knew our tickets were still valid, but hope turned to despair when we saw the crowds and the departures board with a row of “Delayed” displayed. The problem at Peterborough had not been resolved.

The information desk was giving out conflicting stories about alternative stations and routes such as the train to Sheffield from St. Pancras and that, of course, our tickets would still be valid. I went over to St. Pancras, grandchildren in tow, to ask. I think the chaps at the barrier are still laughing a week later.

Meantime, back in Kings Cross, two trains north were bucking the trend and displaying “On time”. They were both for Aberdeen and the story at the information desk was that they “might be running”. It struck me that these must be diesel trains and I positioned myself, surrounded by grandchildren, at the barrier and dared anyone to move. My tactic was to keep an eye out for activity at the ends of the platforms and any shuffling of the barriers by the copious LNER operatives who were barring our way.

It worked and when we were told that the Aberdeen train at Platform 5 was ready to board, we ignored the “do not run” cries from said LNER operatives and hoofed it to the train where we all got a seat. Many had to stand.

The train was, indeed, a diesel and even though it could not go via Peterborough it was able to make a lengthy but picturesque diversion via Lincoln. We made a swift connection at Doncaster and, over 12 hours late, we were all in the bosoms of our families in Hull once again. There is a moral to this story which I hope there is no need to explain.

Dr. Roger Watson is Academic Dean of Nursing at Southwest Medical University, China. He has a PhD in biochemistry. He writes in a personal capacity.