Why the quiet carriage is the most hellish part of the train

Jarring snatches of sound reverberate through the air as a teen flicks through TikTok at breakneck speed.

- Katie Rosseinsky, The Independent

A toddler stares intently at an episode of Peppa Pig that's blaring from their tablet for all to hear. Someone is trying to learn French and being spurred on by the coos of the Duolingo owl. The person behind them is yelling into their phone's loudspeaker, as if they're attempting to break some bad news to their fellow Apprentice teammates. Is this the ninth circle of hell? Nope, just the quiet carriage of a train chugging through the British countryside on any given day. OK, I admit: you'd have to be pretty unlucky to encounter all of those night-marish auditory experiences at once. You're more likely to face just one or two during the same journey, with the “see it, say it, sorted” announcements acting as a depressing chorus.

But as someone who doesn't drive, and whose friends and family are now scattered across the country, I spend a decent chunk of time and money traversing the UK’s railways. Typically, motivated by some pointless mixture of optimism and naivety, I opt for the quiet carriage. And over the past couple of months, I've been rewarded for that optimism and naivety with every single one of the above scenarios.