I love train stations. Airports are horrible places full of people rushing around and uniformed police lovingly caressisng their fearsome looking guns. Then there are the 'designer shops' full of goods only affordable to the rich or to gullible brand victims who believe that the name Prada on a price tag somehow justifies adding several zeros to the price. 

Train stations are much more down to earth. They are full of food outlets catering for hungry travelers who want something tasty for the train. You'd think that most airline passengers would be aware of how dreadful in-flight catering is, yet you never see someone pull their bag of food from the overhead lockers to enjoy instead of the shite foul-smelling foil-covered reheated meal served on board. As I sit writing this on the train, fellow travelers are tucking into delicious looking snacks.

Of course you all know the fatal flaw in my argument. Airline security forbids taking food and drinks onto an aircraft. This results in the ludicrous spectacle we saw at Sydney airport where passengers are obliged to furiously choke back their bottled water before having to throw them into huge bins to be thrashed. This in a world where billions have no easy access to clean drinking water.  

I was randomly selected for an explosives materials search. This involved sticking a magic wand into my hand baggage and all over my clothes. I marveled at the technology and the officer proudly informed me that the wand could detect the minutest residues of garden fertilizer from someone who had been gardening the previous week. I refrained from pointing out that it was a great pity that science hadn't yet developed some test for ascertaining whether bottled water was actually pretending to be some nerve agent or an especially pure and clear form of dynamite.