Inside London's transport time warp
The illustration shows a smiling couple on a yacht, the wind ruffling their hair and the coastline receding into the distance behind them. Above it are the words: 'Work out of London – get more out of life.' Something from the post-Covid work-from-home era, perhaps, or Boris Johnson's 2019 'levelling up' election campaign? No – this is the work of 'The Location of Offices Bureau', set up by the Tory government in 1963 and abolished by Margaret Thatcher.
The advert appears on the wall of a decommissioned Tube carriage that's one of many frozen in time in a warehouse in west London. In the latest issue of The Spectator, Richard Morris writes that museums often have a 'wealth of treasures… hidden away in storage' and argues that more should open their vaults. The London Transport Museum Depot in Acton is an object lesson in how to do this. The 65,000 sq metre unit exists primarily to store, catalogue and preserve objects from the London Transport Museum's collection – and three times a year, it opens its doors to the public.
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Scotsman
7 hours ago
- Scotsman
Ten reasons why Scotland is one of the best places in the world
Sign up to our daily newsletter – Regular news stories and round-ups from around Scotland direct to your inbox Sign up Thank you for signing up! Did you know with a Digital Subscription to The Scotsman, you can get unlimited access to the website including our premium content, as well as benefiting from fewer ads, loyalty rewards and much more. Learn More Sorry, there seem to be some issues. Please try again later. Submitting... OK, I admit it, I'm probably what Boris Johnson would call a 'doomster and gloomster'. And while Boris was a truly terrible Prime Minister – he made a better Have I Got News for You host – he did understand the importance of enthusiasm or, indeed, 'boosterism'. Scots have a reputation for being dour and some are afflicted by the dreaded 'Scottish cultural cringe', as if, somehow, we're fated to be inferior to others, which is, of course, nonsense. Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad So, despite Johnson's moral failings, we would do well to learn from him. And that should start by recognising that the place where we live is, unquestionably, one of the best places in the world. No, sorry, what I actually mean to say is that Scotland IS the best place in the world. No doubts, no equivocation, no questions about comprehensive studies of every country on Earth, Scotland is the best. And here are ten reasons why. Massed pipe bands play during celebrations of the tenth anniversary of the Kelpies in Falkirk (Picture: Jane Barlow) | PA Scottish weather My first may perhaps be the most controversial: Scotland's much-traduced weather. As far as I'm concerned, our current climate is just about right. I remember meeting a South African who insisted it 'always rained' in Scotland, steadfastly resisting my attempts to dissuade her. And she's far from alone. The myth of Scotland's bad weather appears to have spread worldwide. Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad However, during Covid, my daily morning walks in Edinburgh were almost never interrupted by rain, and this anecdotal evidence is backed by the stats. The Gazetteer for Scotland reports Edinburgh has 'high sunshine totals' while rainfall is 'low'. We should be selling temperate summer holidays to people in the Mediterranean – enjoy sunshine with a cooling breeze and weather that's not so hot that it forces you to have a nap at lunchtime. Global warming is changing things. However, the late scientist and environmentalist James Lovelock, who came up with the 'Gaia theory' of the Earth as a self-regulating system, once told me Scotland would likely be one of the better places to sit it out, partly due to the moderating effect of the sea. Our 'golden ticket' Scotland is also a wealthy country. Not ostentatiously so, but enough to at least think about ending child poverty for good, a goal that has cross-party support. Our economy has been growing, although the 8.4 per cent increase in gross domestic product over the past decade was put in the shade by the UK's 14.3 per cent. Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad According to Rain Newton-Smith, director-general of the Confederation of British Industry, Scotland has 'the tools at its fingertips to be a global clean energy superpower' and this represents a 'golden ticket' for future economic growth. Despite all the gloom around the oil and gas industry, there are reasons to be optimistic – if our governments can create the right environments for renewable energy businesses to thrive and replace the jobs being lost as the North Sea's reserves dwindle. This is an exciting chance to build an industry with a tremendously bright future. So, the weather's just right and the economy has a golden ticket, but what are the people like? Tartan Army charmigans Well, in recent decades, the friendliness of the Tartan Army has fundamentally challenged misconceptions about football fans being synonymous with 'hooligans'. In fact, they're so different that I'd argue we need a new word – 'charmigans' – to describe them. They've even started tidying up after themselves in places like London's Leicester Square. Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad Scotland is also a lot cooler than it used to be. Our films and TV shows can now be watched all over the world. The screen sector was worth more than £617 million to the Scottish economy in 2021 and employed over 10,860 people, according to the most recent report. Screen Scotland hopes to increase this to £1 billion by 2030. We are telling stories that other people want to hear. This should be no surprise, given the success of Edinburgh Festival, in all its various forms. It is truly a marvel, an example of humanity at its finest and friendliest. There is no better place in the world to be than Edinburgh in August. In my youth, when the festival was smaller, Scotland felt decidedly more parochial than it does today. I suspect being part of the European Union helped expand our horizons and, hopefully, we won't see a long retreat on that score as a result of Brexit – The Return to Brigadoon is one film no one wants to see. And that brings me to another wonderful thing about Scotland: its neighbours. The rest of the UK, Ireland, Scandinavia and the European Union could hardly be more pleasant, particularly when you consider the possible alternatives. Tyrannical, warlike regimes hold power only in distant lands. Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad Iconic castles, epic scenery Scotland is also remarkably good looking. No list extolling its virtues would be complete without mentioning its world-famous scenery and places like Glen Coe, Loch Lomond, Skye... the list goes on. We even have the 'most outstanding example' in the world of, ahem, 'an actively accumulating blanket bog landscape' – the Flow Country – according to Unesco. Over the generations, humans have done some pretty terrible things to the landscape, but we have also put up iconic structures like the castles at Dunnottar, Edinburgh and Eilean Donan, the towering Wallace Monument and, more recently, the fantastic Kelpies at Falkirk. But perhaps the most important thing about Scotland is that it is a democracy and we get to choose our governments, rather than having them forced upon us. No country run by a dictator will ever be the best place in the world. And the most fundamental right necessary for a democracy is, of course, freedom of speech, which Scotland enjoys to a substantial degree. If I wanted to write about ten reasons why Scotland should be ashamed of itself, I could (and already have done). Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad
Reuters
11 hours ago
- Reuters
Alaska Airlines CEO expects full-year profit despite pricing struggles
NEW DELHI, June 3 (Reuters) - Alaska Airlines (ALK.N), opens new tab CEO Ben Minicucci said the company's pricing power has not recovered yet even as its bookings have stabilised following economic uncertainty that led to volatility in the first quarter. Still, Minicucci said the company expects to report a profit this year. In the current quarter, the Seattle-based carrier's earnings are shaping up along expected lines, he told Reuters on the sidelines of an IATA airline summit in New Delhi. Like most U.S. airlines, Alaska pulled its full-year financial forecast in April as President Donald Trump's trade war created the biggest uncertainty for the industry since the COVID-19 pandemic. With little clarity on how consumers would behave in the face of a potentially worsening economy, airlines said it was difficult to accurately forecast their business. Soft travel demand, meanwhile, has dampened U.S. airfares, which declined at their fastest pace in 16 months in April from a year ago, government data shows. "We're filling airplanes, just not at the yields we'd like," Minicucci said. Alaska has forecast an adjusted profit of $1.15 per share to $1.65 per share in the quarter ending June. The company's performance, thus far, is "solidly" in the forecast range, he said. The pullback in U.S. travel demand has been the sharpest among price-conscious consumers. Demand for high-end travel remains the "bright spot," Minicucci said. Alaska, which completed its acquisition of Hawaiian Airlines last year, is looking to drive up the share of premium travel in its revenue. The carrier will launch its first-ever transatlantic service next year, with a non-stop flight between Seattle and Rome. It is also adding more upscale seats on its aircraft. Premium cabins are estimated to account for 29% of its seats over the next three years, up from 25% at present, he said. The company, however, is having to deal with seat supply chain problems. Minicucci said seat manufacturers will need to expand production to keep up with strong demand. "They're oversubscribed right now," he said. Minicucci said he is encouraged by safety and quality improvements at planemaker Boeing (BA.N), opens new tab. Alaska had to ground its fleet of MAX 9 aircraft last year after a door plug missing key bolts blew off one of the carrier's new jets at 16,000 feet. While the planemaker still has a lot of work ahead of it, he said it continues to make improvements "quarter over quarter." Boeing CEO Kelly Ortberg recently told trade publication Aviation Week that the company aimed to secure certification for the smallest and largest of its best-selling 737 MAX aircraft - the MAX 7 and MAX 10 - from the U.S. Federal Aviation Administration by the end of this year. The MAX 7 and MAX 10 have been delayed in part due to concerns with the engine de-icing system. Alaska is one of the airlines waiting for the MAX 10. Minicucci said the jet is not part of the carrier's plans until 2027. "We don't want to put pressure on Boeing," he said. "We want them to follow their own certification process."
Telegraph
11 hours ago
- Telegraph
Freedom-loving libertines? Our idea of the French needs a rethink
The signals coming out of France are confusing. They always have been. If you're travelling to France this year, you might like to know where they're at right now, for people quite often understand France the wrong way round. That's why it fascinates. Over the weekend, you may have noticed mobs of yobs attempting to wreck Paris, and various provincial spots, in celebration of a football victory. It's hardly the stuff of city-break dreams. That's soccer for you, I will say. That's France for you, you might say. And you would be sort of right. There's a thick seam of airhead destruction and looting running through French history, via the 1789 revolution to the present day. Anarchy is what the French do. But it's only one thing they do. Visitors often underestimate the variety of French behaviour. Alongside the lawlessness, France also boasts an urge to discipline and a tendency toward bossy censoriousness. They're probably flipsides of the same coin. Simultaneous with the torching of cars and looting of flat-screen TVs came, for instance, the banning of smoking in pretty much all outdoor public spaces – including the beaches which sunseekers frequent. We're also seeing an overdue kick back against France's famous libertinism. And, heaven knows, France buckled down to Covid restrictions quite as obediently – sheepishly, perhaps – as any other nation. The public smoking ban first. 'The freedom to smoke must end where the freedom of children to breathe fresh air begins,' said health minister Catherine Vautrin. So, smoking visitors please be aware, you may not light up in a park, on a beach, at a bus stop or sporting venue, or anywhere near a school. Anywhere, in short, where there might be youngsters (except bar and restaurant terraces). If you do and are caught, you're £113 down. (Though catching smokers on, say, the eight-mile beach at Sète in Languedoc will present a challenge.) I'd say this smoking clamp-down is pretty crazy. The health threats from smoke to kids on a beach seem likely to be minimal – there's an awful lot of fresh air available out there – and no more harmful than, say, the doughnuts sold on all French beaches by strolling sellers. Tobacco sales are, anyway, tumbling – down 11 per cent in 2024. If 25 per cent of French adults still smoke (12 per cent in the UK), that's down from 30 per cent a decade ago. And – here's a thing – these fewer people are, due to price rises (to £10.50 a pack), paying more than when there were more of them – £16.5 billion – a few years back. Of that sum, incidentally, between 75 and 80 per cent goes to the state in taxes. So, two things: the aim of stubbing out French smoking entirely by 2032 might be realised, or nearly, without annoying adults on beaches and in parks. Second, if it is realised, France is going to have to find an awful lot of cash somewhere else. Another round of tourist taxes, perhaps? Anyway, I've had no say in the matter, the ban is on from July 1 and France has shown that, contrary to image, it can be as high-handed as any other democracy. I think you should know that. It will help you on the French roads this summer, when you're pulled over by a clump of police officers. Be co-operative, even obsequious. France is also, now, sharp on licentiousness. You know the image: France, notably Paris, as a mix of exotic, sophisticated and raunchy. The Crazy Horse, Story Of O, the Can-Can, presidential philandering (Jacques Chirac was, apparently, 'Mr Three Minutes, Shower Included'), adultery as standard, and all the rest. The French government, it was said, used high-class brothels for entertaining foreign dignitaries, noting the appointments down on the official schedule as 'visits to the president of the Senate'. Then again, the whole of France rarely matched the image. The weight of the Catholic church – and of the parish pump – saw to that. The reputation came from the elite – intellectuals, upper classes, monarchs – who considered they had dispensation. Such tolerance extended to the upper echelons was aided by privacy laws and a craven press – which failed to mention, for instance, that President Mitterrand had not only mistresses but an entire parallel family lodged at public expense. This 20th-century libertinism took a first dive when Dominique Strauss-Kahn gave it a terrible name. Subsequently, #MeToo-ism has prospered as it's become clear that the ooh-la-la attitude has created an atmosphere conducive to appalling behaviour, and the worst of crimes. Simply put, we underestimate the variety of French culture. Being told to wear masks and stay inside during Covid wasn't contrary to their traditions. It was mainstream. High-handedness was rooted in the absolute French monarchy, enhanced by a despotic revolution, and remains in place. The Liberté – about which we hear so much – is liberty until some technocrat from Paris tells you it's not. No post-war British political leader would have got away with de Gaulle's haughtiness. Or Macron's, for that matter. France is, in short, not as French as you think. Of course, some of the images mirror some truth. The French are certainly less frenzied about sex and usually more elegant of deportment. But other elements of the image need adjustment. Take drinking. Famously, the average Frenchman passes the afternoon lying under a hedge, beret over the eyes, empty bottle in the nearby ditch. This picture needs modification. The French have reduced their drinking by much more than half since the 1960s, largely by cutting out spirits and the more dreadful wines. The hedge-dwelling fellows have gone. Per capita booze consumption is now almost identical to Britain's. OK, this is not a terrific point of reference – not compared with North Korea or the average nunnery – but it's an improvement. Food, too – a key concern for holidaymakers. Discussion of French food used to focus entirely on pleasure. There was an assumed scale of sensual seriousness against which diners judged dishes. There still is, but grafted on now are requirements for 'wellness' and for the 'saving' of the planet. Chefs are increasingly following their US and British colleagues in droning on about the naturalness of all their organic ingredients sourced from family producers no more than 30 miles away. Contrary to reputation, the French have also got the hang of hygiene. Though a few cafés and bars retain WCs like primeval swamps, most don't. And one may now usually tackle real public conveniences – in railway or service stations, museums and airports – without pulling on waders. You can also drink the water from the tap without 1950s-style results. Reputation also portrays the French as lunatic drivers. Again, I'm not sure. I last felt really threatened by traffic not in France but when driving in Lancashire. Hesitancy about lanes and turn-offs drove local tin-can warriors crackers. They hooted, they drove to within millimetres of the hire car and, on passing, shouted what I gathered weren't greetings. I've not experienced anything similar in France for ages. Granted, French road deaths are slightly more than twice those in Britain – 3,432 against 1,633 in 2024 – but that French figure is down from a 1972 high of more than 18,000. I could go on. I usually do. The key thing is that if, this summer, you're travelling to France under the impression that it is a buffet of delights with no moral restrictions, you'll be disappointed. Or reassured, depending. That's partly because bossiness is built in and partly because France truly isn't as free and easy, insouciant and disgusting as everybody imagines.
