DAB

We have a DAB radio in the bedroom. Our son had a portable DAB radio when he was away at school but found that he couldn't pick up that many stations and some of those that he did seemed to disappear into the stratosphere with amazing regularity.

I often listen to BBC Radio 6 Music in the late evenings. It reminds me a bit of how Virgin FM used to be and, vaguely, of John Peel's format on Radio 1. I used to love the John Peel show in the late 1970's and it was essential Sixth Form and College listening. I don't feel that's quite the same with Radio 6 Music because I assumed that not that many people had digital radios or listened to that channel.

In fact the latest RAJAR figures show that while the channel only has a 0.4% share of the total listening audience, DAB radios are now in 28% of all UK households and listening hours on digital platforms are up 22% year on year.

So, DAB and digital in general do seem to be doing well but I don't hear people talking about it and I still find the number of channels I can receive in Cambridgeshire very limited - perhaps that's why? I enjoy the sound quality (especially Radio 5 Live for the sport when Medium Wave seems to prefer surfing to riding the waves) but even though figures prove that I'm not alone, it still feels like it.

On track?

I was reading a supplement in Media Week about commuters and how outdoor media is trying to target them. It had some intersting statistics including rail travel up by 40% in the last ten years and expected to rise by the same volume in the next ten.

London remains a key commuter territory with 42% of workers using rain as their main form of transport. According to Network Rail the total footfall at Liverpool Street station is 141 million, which is five times greater than at the Bluewater shopping centre in Kent. also, Eurostar now carries more passengers between London and Paris than all of the corresponding airlines put together.

So, volumes of passengers using the railways in this country are massive and rising. I thought of this yesterday when, having arrived at Cambridge Station, all trains to London King's Cross had been cancelled due to a broken rail in a tunnel at Welwyn Garden City. I managed to climb into a Liverpool Street train which was already heaving with diverted passengers seeking a diversion from the unpleasant conditions they would have to travel in. I was actually travelling to Cookham in Berkshire, via Paddington and Maidenhead. The first leg was horrible.

By the time I got back to Ely station last night I'd used ten trains, including the tube, to make my journey there and back. If the authorities are using these kinds of statistics to indicate travel volumes, it's hardly surprising that footfall is so high. Perhaps the more telling figures would reveal how many extra trains passengers have to make in an average year because of disruption to a service that already cannot cope - not to mention the overcrowding on those services that struggle to make financial deadlines.

Turning

We drove into Cambridge yesterday as our eldest son had guitar practice with some new mates from Hill's Road Sixth Form College. All of the talk was about amps and the rhythm section. He was excited and looking forward to being part of a group of friends who were sharing the same voyage of discovery.

As we passed through Swaffham Bulbeck the windmill's sails were racing round quietly in the wind. I thought back then to how we'd set out on our expeditions, when he was so much younger, eagerly looking forward to discovering windmills or watermills or lighthouses. We travelled throughout Cambridgeshire, Norfolk and Suffolk and the first sightings of these lovely buildings never, ever failed to satisfy.

The sails will keep on turning and we will always have the memories of those quieter times.

Off the beaten tracks

Not sure if you've been following the story of two boys placing a concrete slab and metal bar on the railway tracks at Stanground near Peterborough? The Peterborough Evening Telegraph carried a story that supplemented what I'd seen on BBC Look East.

Apparently a train travelling from Peterborough to Stansted Airport last October was derailed and came dangerously close to plunging into the River Nene off Black Bridge. Two boys, aged 16 and 17, are currently on trial over the incident and it appears that they've made similar, previous attempts to cause train disruption. Thankfully nobody was killed on this occasion but think of the fame and notoriety they'd have achievied if the train had plunged into the river. I often travel this route and, believe me, if you came off Black Bridge, there's going to be little chance of survival.

What makes people do this? Is it just the danger gene that some people have in greater abundance than others or the same gene that is stimulated by circumstance and environment?

Church Farm

We went up to Church Farm at Stow Bardolph in West Norfolk this morning. The farm is a rare breeds centre and children love the opportunity to mix with animals they've previously only seen in books or on the television. There is a lovely sense of hope in the air and one of our best friends works there, so it was nice to go and sit in the sunshine and enjoy a quick coffee with her.

We used to go to Stow Bardolph regularly as our children attended the Montessori school next to the church. There were some happy memories from that time but more unhappy ones and we have never regretted our decision to take them away. They haven't looked back and neither did we until today, when, on such a beautiful morning, the shadows would take a long time to darken our spirits.

Balduck

When approaching Baldock by train from Cambridge, I used to be aware of a very long queue of traffic to my left. The queue has gone now, not because the train windows are dirtier than ever or because someone's been planting rows of Leylandii. The traffic, like water seeking a shorter route downhill, has been diverted along a bypass and via a tunnel through the hills to the south west.

I thought at first that the entrance to this tunnel looked like the end of a rifle barrel. I used to inwardly duck each time we went by, as though it was taking aim at us and could blow us off the tracks...'Due to gunshot difficulties, this service is running approximately three weeks late...'

However, yesterday I realised that it was much more like a pair of nostrils as traffic enters on the left and exits on the right. I suppose that's how we commuters are meant to feel. Sucked into the rat race, experimented on for physical and mental stamina, and then released back into the wild: broken and not even allowed to visit Baldock.

Nomophobia

I was reading last week about words which have been so well-used in the last year that they're to be included in the new edition of the Oxford English Dictionary. One of them is 'nomophobia' which apparently refers to the fear of being out of mobile contact.

I have to say that I rarely go out without taking my mobile phone and charge it religiously whenever it and I are alone together. However, if I suffered from nomophobia I'd be a nervous wrech if I lived anywhere near Royston. Ever since I've been commuting between Cambridgeshire and London I've always experienced a blackout whenever we've approached Royston. Either this is some kind of deep-seated psychological trauma or Vodafone just haven't got it sorted out.

"I'm 'phoning you now because we're approaching Royston" has become a regular opening line in my mobile conversations, which other passengers have interpreted as some kind of danger-zone prediction. Perhaps there's something in nomophobia after all?