London calling

OUTWARD JOURNEY:Travel writer Bill Bryson got it right when he observed: 'I have long known that it is part of God's plan for me to spend a little time with each of the most stupid people on earth '

And believe me, each of the most stupid people on earth also travel First Class to London.

Not all of them obviously; in fact not even a small minority, just one among a hundred, sitting three rows down in front of me.

Now clearly there's a place in the world for dangerous fruitcakes, but I have to say I was a little surprised to see such an individual travelling in First from Swindon, and looking every inch the corporate honcho.

From the moment we got on and lazily took our time choosing which carriage and aisle to sit in, he eyeballed me.

Indeed, for the rest of the 65-minute trip into Paddington, he stared. And possibly dribbled too.

That unnerving experience aside, what did I think of stumping up an extra £40 (First Class Day Return to London is £100; Standard is £60) to travel in style; at least, well-worn style?

Well, why don't I first list those items and services which separate First from Standard such as the bigger seat, because just like on an airline, it is space you're ultimately paying for. Having said that, the seats really are more comfortable.

You also, and this is very important, get a button on the right hand of the seat marked 'press'. This I did at least 30 times and still couldn't discern any noticeable difference.

In addition, you get a curtain. Uncertain as to how this would add to the quality of my journey (in Standard I normally just sit next to someone with a bigger head and use that as shade), I swished it 'open' and 'close', 'open' and 'close'.

After about 30 minutes I got bored of doing that, so decided instead to make use of First Great Western's much vaunted, and apparently award-winning 'Travelling Chef'.

On First Class, there is a host/hostess trolley service, which is wheeled up and down with pleasing regularity, and I enquired of my assigned 'hostess' if she could avail me of a full English breakfast, with all the trimmings.

"I'm sorry," she told me, "but there is no Travelling Chef on this service. Would you like a croissant?"

I was deeply troubled.

"You mean," I persisted, "there's no chef on this particular train because he's ill or just got bored with the Hygiene Act?".

"No," she said, firmly but pleasantly, "we just don't offer a Travelling Chef facility on this service at this time."

'At this time' I might add referred to the 7.15am from Swindon. I mean, isn't that about the time your body clock normally screams to be fed?

God knows what services do offer a Chef, but presumably the 10.30am or the 2.15pm wouldn't be a bad guess.

So beware if you fancy a proper fill-up before London, check first to see if your train can offer more than a free pastry and coffee.

Stomach rumbling, I turned my attention to the other passengers.

After all, does reclining luxuriantly in First introduce one to a better class of traveller?

'Better' of course is such a subjective word, but no one I saw apart from Mr Eyeball looked like they might suddenly mug you.

That said, no matter how much money you cough up, you're never going to escape from the 'tisht..tisht..tisht' of personal stereos or the "WE'RE JUST GOING INTO A TUNNEL" conversations of mobile phone users (I sat in a normal carriage there is a 'Quiet' carriage in which the use of mobiles and stereos is 'discouraged'; I say discouraged because I have never seen this rule specifically enforced. Instead, they merely ask you to 'refrain' from the use of .)

Still, if you're going to have to listen to other people's one way conversations, they are undeniably less irritating in First. Rather than the usual ramblings of ho-hum hum-drum minutiae, it at least sounds corporate, for example: "Well if we can't push for stock options, let's at least consolidate our position with the lawyers." And that was just the Buffet steward.

Arriving into London at about 8.20am, there was no doubt that I had enjoyed an infinitely more comfortable ride than my fellow travellers in Standard. They spilled out their carriages looking every bit like long haul passengers. I, on the other hand, literally skipped along the platform, only stopping to look occasionally over my shoulder for Monsieur Eyeball.

RETURN JOURNEY: Caught the 3.45pm home which, due to some kind of points failure, was missing out Didcot and Swindon on the return journey and only stopping at Reading.

But before boarding, I did venture into First Great Western's First Class Lounge on Paddington station. As it name suggests, this is solely for the use of First Class passengers, and I have to say was very plush and comfortable. There was even free coffee and tea. I was impressed.

Back on the train however, there weren't even any miniature croissants to keep me happy. just a rather listless looking chocolate muffin. However, I was handed a free copy of the Evening Standard.

Fortunately, the First Class carriages were all but empty, almost certainly because the train wasn't actually stopping anywhere, apart from Reading.

Nevertheless, by the time we did get to Reading and I prepared to change, we were informed that Didcot and Swindon suddenly were available and to take care when alighting onto the platform. And that was that.

Would I then recommend paying extra to travel First Class?

Yes I would, but only because travelling 'Standard' is so arduous - there's never enough room, you're jammed together and by the time you get to your destination, you invariably feel irate and dishevelled.

If it's business you're travelling to London for, the extra £40 does make all the difference. And if you're smart enough to choose a service that offers a Travelling Chef, you might also arrive in the capital feeling fuelled and replete (or take a packed breakfast as insurance).