Greater Anglia says they’re “investing in heat resilience.” They’re painting some rails white to reflect the sun. They’re trimming trees to improve airflow. I appreciate the effort, really. But deep down, I think we all know the real solution is better summer scheduling. Why run a full 12-carriage fleet during a heatwave if you know they’ll crawl? Run fewer trains, run them slower, and tell us honestly instead of pretending everything is fine until it isn’t.
Until then, we’re stuck. The sun will keep rising. The tracks will keep bending. And Greater Anglia will keep apologising. “We are sorry for the inconvenience caused by the hot weather.” Yes, we know. We were there. We were the ones sweating on the platform, watching the board refresh with phantom delays.
Last week, I finally made it home. Two hours late. My ice cream had melted in my bag. I looked at my ticket stub—a £35 single—and I just laughed. That’s the Greater Anglia summer experience. You pay a premium for a ride that feels like a dare. And somehow, we keep coming back. Maybe it’s hope. Maybe it’s Stockholm syndrome. Either way, I’ll see you on the platform next Tuesday. Bring sunscreen. And a book. And patience.
