I am under no illusion about the transitory nature of what I do for a living. I fully buy into the “tomorrow’s fish and chip paper” view of daily journalism. But just every now and then my words have made a small — and in this case — enduring difference.
It was 30 years ago while staying with friends Hugh and Jane on the west coast of Scotland that I learned of British Rail’s planned axing of the Fort William sleeper service — arguably Britain’s most romantic train journey — as part of the privatisation ordered by John Major’s government.
